


Lilacs and Lily Pads

by sadladybug



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Dating, F/M, Proposals, Weddings, cultural complications, humor and drama, whole lotta romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-09 07:10:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 63,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7791781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadladybug/pseuds/sadladybug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tale of clumsy courtship and calamitous court weddings, featuring awkward family encounters, floral mishaps, cultural complications, and good old fashioned fluff and conflict. Takes place in the five years following the war's end. For Zutara Week 2016. A prequel to Bones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Love

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Zutara Week 2016, incorporating all seven prompts to a greater or lesser extent – dragons, reincarnation, memories, lilac, fever, coffee, and candles. Some will be obvious, for others you might have to squint. For example, this chapter (and really half of the story) is brought to you by the prompt “memories” as half of the story is told in flashback. The time frame is alluded to throughout the story, but overall this takes place in the 5 years following the end of the war. 
> 
> A final note before you get started: for some of my other fics, readers have suggested bringing tissues. For this, I recommended keeping your toothbrush handy, because there’s some sugary sweetness coming your way. I’m trying something a little different this time (though let’s be real, I can’t help but include some good old-fashioned angst, too). Enjoy!

Katara squints at the slip of parchment in front of her and frowns. “Hey, Zuko?”

“Hmm?”

“What do you think we should do about Aang?”

From behind his massive desk the Fire Lord looks up from his work, his head barely visible from behind towering stacks of paperwork.

“ _Do_ about him?”

She waves the paper at him. “Yes. Where do you think he should sit?”

Laid out in front of her on the plush carpets of Zuko’s office is an enormous piece of parchment dotted with circles and squares. To her left is a stack of smaller slips, much like the one in her hand, each bearing a single name. Some of them have already made their way onto the makeshift map, but the percentage is far less than she would have liked. Zuko raises himself out of his chair to peer at her work.

“What’s all this? I thought you were going to work on that hospital reform.”

She ignores the hint of reprimand in his voice. “I was, but that can wait.”

“Oh?”

Katara nods. “The budget won’t allow for any changes until the fall, but our wedding is in two months!”

He gestures with his chin. “It looks more like you’re planning a war than a wedding.”

“Don’t I know it,” she grumbles. “I made this from the guest list. I’m trying to decide where everyone should sit for the banquet.”

“Ah.” He sits back down and reshuffles his papers. “So what’s this about Aang?”

She picks up a second slip. “Well, I thought I had it figured out until I came across Bumi. I thought maybe Bumi would want to sit with the rest of the White Lotus members, but he and Aang have been friends for like a hundred years, so maybe he would rather sit there.”

“What about your brother and Toph?”

Her brow furrows. “Why would Bumi want to sit with them?”

“Not Bumi. Wouldn’t it make sense for Aang to sit with them?”

She sighs and studies the map. “Well, I had considered having a Team Avatar table, but it might be weird since we won’t be sitting with them. Plus, Sokka and Suki will be there as a couple, and I think that Toph is bringing a date.”

Zuko’s good eye goes wide. “Toph has a date?”

Katara shrugs. “She insists it’s casual, but you can never tell with her.”

“I see.” A pause. “Aang isn’t bringing anyone?”

“Not that I know of. If he’s been dating anyone he hasn’t told me about it, at least.”

She squirms a little. She knows she isn’t responsible for Aang’s happiness, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t care. Not for the first time, she is struck by the unreality of the situation. Here she is, planning her wedding – a wedding to the Fire Lord and not the Avatar, contrary to what she or anyone else would have imagined when they all met at the bottom of the world all those years ago. Though she has no regrets about her choice, she was raised to be gracious and hospitable, especially to those who matter most in her life. While it’s possible that Aang has made his peace and let her go, she knows that if their situations were reversed she would be more than grateful to be seated away from all of the happy couples while she watched her childhood sweetheart tie the knot.

“Anyway, I thought he might like to sit with Bumi. What do you think?”

“I think you should go with your intuition. You know him best.”

She looks at Bumi’s slip again. “But that would screw up the White Lotus table.”

“Hmm.”

“Although maybe that was a bad idea to begin with. After all, Uncle Iroh will be sitting with us, and he’s their leader. Not to mention that maybe they don’t want to broadcast that they know each other. Secret society and all.”

“Mmhmm.”

“And I know that Master Pakku won’t want to be separated from Gran-Gran. But then what do I do with Piandao and Jeong Jeong?”

“That’s rough.”

“I know! And then – “ She double takes as she glances up at him. He’s propped his chin on one hand, eyes aimed at the papers in front of him. “Hey! Are you even listening to me?”

He blinks. “What?”

“I knew it! You didn’t hear anything I just said!”

He has the grace to look ashamed. “I’m sorry. Really. I’m just trying to get through this tax proposal and – “

“What, you think I should do this all by myself?”

He frowns. “What? No! Honestly, I don’t know why you would want to do it at all.”

She recoils. She had only been teasing; that is not the response she had expected. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

His eyes are already drifting back to the papers in front of him. “There’s a small army of staff members who would be honored to take that off your hands so you can focus on more important things.”

Her jaw drops. “This is our _wedding!_ How is that not an _important thing_?”

He winces at her tone; she has his full attention now. “I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant that you’re stressing out over something when you don’t have to! Why not let someone else take care of that?”

Indignation builds beneath her ribcage. “Because I thought since it’s _our_ wedding that _we_ could plan it together! But I guess I misjudged your priorities. Sorry I assumed that you cared!” She crosses her arms and pointedly looks away, trying to ignore the stinging in her eyes.

The belabored sigh and the creak of his chair only has her sticking her nose higher in the air. From her periphery she can see him come out from behind his desk. With a rustle of heavy silk he drops down to the floor next to her. She tries to edge away from him, but he captures her with an arm around her waist and pulls her close.

“Hey.”

She won’t look at him. “Don’t ‘hey’ me, your majesty. Don’t you have something _more important_ to be doing right now?”

“Hey. Look at me.”

She tries her best to give him her most disappointed glare, but it starts to fizzle as soon as she sees the sincerity in his eyes.

“I do care.” At her quirked eyebrow he gives her a look. “I do. And you’re right, as always. Now show me what you’ve been working on.”

For the briefest of moments she’s tempted to tell him to shove it, but the truth is she wants his opinion, and when he’s looking at her like that staying angry with him is more effort than it’s worth. She rolls her eyes. “It’s pretty self-explanatory. The long rectangle here is the head table, and all the circles and squares are tables for guests.”

He studies her work, and the corner of his mouth twitches. “I think you have bigger problems than what to do with Aang.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

He points. “You can’t possibly have the Jiang’s sit with the Hattori’s. They hate each other!”

She blinks and reaches for the slip. “Oh. Well, what if we move them over here – “

He catches her wrist. “No! That’s even worse! The Hattori’s are an old conservative family, but they’re nothing compared to the Kanoe’s! Putting them together is practically an invitation to conspire.”

“Okay, then how about we move the Kanoe’s – “

“Not there! Their patriarch is a recovering alcoholic, and the Takashi’s are known for drinking well past the point of embarrassment at these things.” He sifts through her stack of names. “Now, they might be okay over here with the Yosano’s…”

She crosses her arms and tries her hardest to keep the smile off her face. “Would you rather do this instead?”

“What?” He drops the slips. “No, I uh, have to review this tax proposal that my ministers have been clamoring about for far too long. If I don’t have something to say about it tomorrow they might revolt.”

“You want some help?” At his skeptical look she shrugs. “I’ll be Fire Lady soon enough, I may as well get started now. Trade me.”

“ _Trade_ you?”

Katara shoves the remaining slips into his hands and swiftly stands. “Why not? You work on this infernal thing for a while. See how _you_ like it.”

Without waiting for a response she saunters over to his desk and settles into his chair, propping her feet up and crossing her legs at the ankles. Taking up his documents, she gives him her most imperious, teasing look. “Well? Get to work, Fire Lord.”

With papers in hand he bows at the waist and mockingly salutes. “Yes, Lady Katara.” He smirks at her. “Good luck. That thing’s been giving me a headache for weeks.”

“Yeah, well, so has that thing.” She settles deeper into the chair. “We’ll just have to see who can outlast who.”

He snorts. “You’re on.”

He’s right, of course; the document is dry and cumbersome and tedious, but once she finds the rhythm of the language her confidence grows. She loses herself in the words, nodding along until she understands just what the proposal represents. Her heart drops. Education cuts? Reduced aid for refugees? But how can that be, when there’s allotments for –

“Ugh! This is worse than pai sho!”

Concentration broken, she turns her attention to her husband-to-be, formal robes crumpled on the floor, one fist in his hair and the other curled around a bunch of slips. The slightest hint of smoke wafts from between his fingers.

She stifles a laugh. “Careful, you’ll burn all those up and then you’ll have to start over!” He startles and drops the slips, waving away the smoke. “Party planning too much for you, your majesty?”

He gives her a long-suffering look. “If I have to keep doing this I’ll end up in a cell next to Azula.”

“So you’re admitting defeat?”

“I surrender with honor.” He stands, smoothing out his robes. He gestures at the papers in her hands. “I’d rather read that proposal any day.”

She clutches it to her chest. “Maybe I’m not done with it yet.”

“You – what?”

“I said you can’t have it yet. I’m still working on it. I think I might have a few ideas.”

“Really? Let’s hear them.”

He comes to stand behind her and she adjusts the proposal so they can both look at it. “First of all, you can’t sacrifice these valuable services just to lower taxes. It’s a short term solution but it won’t help in the long run. However, I don’t see why you can’t keep the services _and_ lower taxes. See, right here, this allotment for – _Hey_!”

He waves his snatched prize outside of her reach, grinning widely. “I told you I wanted it back.”

“And I said I had an idea!”

“I thought you said you wanted to work on planning our wedding.” His smile is smug as he gestures at the abandoned map. “Now’s your chance.”

She throws up her hands. “That was before! Now give that back!”

He dangles the papers above her head. “You want it?” Rolling it up and sticking it in his sash, he takes a few steps back. “I guess you better come and get it, then.”

She answers his smile with her own. “You asked for it!”

The chase is on. She bolts out of the chair and lunges for him, but he neatly sidesteps and she trips as she catches her toe on the corner of the desk. As she looks up from the floor he makes a show of examining the paper, fingers stroking his chin. “Hmm, it seems you may be right…”

She shakes her head and laughs. “Oh, you’re so going to get it.”

He just smiles and darts out of the way when she pulls water from the humid air to snap at his ankles. He’s laughing as she gets to her feet. “Hey! No fair bending!”

She grabs for his wrists, but he weaves just outside of her grasp. “Thieves are in no position to be talking about fairness!”

He snickers as he ducks to avoid an attempt to collar him. “You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you? What happened to the light fingers that stole that waterbending scroll?”

It’s all out warfare from there. Using his Blue Spirit stealth he dodges and weaves, but she’s more than familiar with his moves. In no time she has him wrangled to the ground, their laughter echoing off of the ceiling as she straddles his hips and wrenches the crumpled proposal from his hands. Her smile is triumphant.

“I win. For the second time tonight, I might add.”

He’s panting beneath her, his grin impossibly wide. “Congratulations. You’ve conquered the Fire Nation.” The smile in his eyes softens as he takes inventory of their position. “How will you celebrate your victories?”

She leans down. “As conqueror, I suppose there’s a few things I could demand of their leader…”

A hum from the back of his throat rumbles through his chest when she presses her lips to his. The proposal is forgotten as a different kind of struggle begins, one of grasping hands and stolen breath. For a while the rest of their problems fade away, and her world narrows to the sound of his groans and the way her blood sings at his touch.

Until a loud crash startles them apart.

Breathing hard, she glances around, twisting until she sees the source of the noise. Near Zuko’s foot is an upended decorative table and the shattered remains of a delicate glass vase. But how could that be? _Weren’t we just on the other side of the office…?_

She turns back to Zuko, who hasn’t even bothered to investigate the damage. She bites her lip. “I hope you weren’t attached to that vase.”

He’s already pulling her back in. “Never mind that. Come here.”

She’s more than happy to oblige, but just as she is leaning back someone is pounding at the door. Automatically she scrambles off of him, clutching her disheveled robes and edging backward toward the desk.

“My Lord! We heard a crash! Is everything alright?”

Zuko huffs and props himself up on his elbows. He pitches his voice toward the door. “Everything’s fine, Captain. Back to your post.”

Through the door they can hear a muffled “Yes, sir!” and the sound of retreating footsteps. Zuko glances down at his own rumpled clothing, the collar of his robe pulled down to expose one pale shoulder. Then he quirks a teasing brow in her direction.

For a long moment they just stare at one another, but soon her lips start to tremble at the edges. A bark of laughter escapes from her lips, and Zuko follows a beat later.

When her giggles are contained, she says, “Well.”

He straightens the crown in his hair with a smile. “Indeed.”

She tucks her robes back into place. “I suppose we should get back to work.”

“Huh? Oh, right. I suppose we should. Where’d that proposal go?”

He turns and beneath him she can hear crinkling paper. She gasps. “Zuko!”

“What’s wrong?”

“The seating chart!”

Beneath him the large parchment is wrinkled and tattered, and the small slips of paper are scattered across the floor. One sticks to his hand as he lifts it. He deflates and lets his arm fall. “And just when I might have finally solved the problem with Aang…”

“Really?”

“Doesn’t matter now; it’s kind of a mess.”

She crawls up beside him. “Well, if it makes you feel better, I was serious before about finding a solution to your tax problem.”

“If we can find it in all this mess, I’d love to hear it.” He shrugs an arm around her shoulder and plants a quick kiss to her temple. “Perhaps we should trade more often.”

She smiles and rests her head on his shoulder. “We’ve always made a good team.”

“And good opponents.” He glances at detritus surrounding them. “You know,” he says, stroking her forearm with the back of his fingers, “We’ve already made this mess…”

She smacks his hand away playfully. “And we’ve already started enough rumors with your guards. Let’s not embarrass ourselves any further.”

“If you insist.” He steals one last quick kiss. “But it’s not the first time, and I doubt it will be the last.”

Well, he was right about that.

* * *

 

The first time she knew that she loved him they were in the South Pole.

The daughter of the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe was turning seventeen, and the entire tribe was bustling about in preparation for the celebration. Invitations had gone out to all corners of the world to friends she had made in her travels two years prior, and her skin tingled with anticipation as she waited the final few days for them to arrive. She was anxious to see them all, but there were a few people in particular who edged their way to the top of the list.

Well, one person, really.

When news of his arrival reaches them, Sokka rolls his eyes as she bolts from their hut, hastily pulling her arms through the sleeves of her heavy parka. By the time she reaches the shore he has already begun to disembark, ringed by a small crowd of curious villagers. Unlike the last time he was here, he is covered in heavy, rich robes rather than hard armor, and instead of scowling at those assembled he smiles benevolently. The four guards trailing him file off and stand at attention from a respectable distance. His eyes scan the group as he approaches, lighting up when she shoulders her way to the front, waving an arm above her head.

_“Zuko!”_

In three long steps he has her surrounded, and she squeaks when his arms circle her waist and hoist her in the air. Her laughter bounces off of the ice as he spins her, bringing her low enough for a kiss.

She blushes, aware that they have an audience. “Zuko, people are watching…”

He gives her that soft smile, the one only reserved for her, the one she wouldn’t have guessed even existed when their journey began. “I can’t help it. I missed you.”

Secretly she is pleased, but outwardly she rolls her eyes as he lowers her to the ground. He still hasn’t released her. “It’s only been a month.”

“Only? It’s the longest we’ve been apart in the last six months.”

She teases the fur at his collar with one finger. “I didn’t know you’d been counting.”

He leans his forehead against hers. “Why wouldn’t I? Don’t tell me you haven’t wanted to see me, too.”

She closes the distance between them just a fraction, their breath clouding in the space between them. “Well, maybe just a little…”

“ _Ahem_.”

“Oh!” Katara spins out of his arms, but keeps a hand on his shoulder. Her father and grandmother stand at the head of the crowd, their expressions unreadable. The assembled crowd’s eyes seem to bore into her in the ensuing silence. She winces. “Gran-Gran, you remember Zuko. Zuko, this is my grandmother, Kanna.”

Katara’s hand falls away as Zuko bows low at the waist. “It’s a pleasure to be formally introduced.” When he rises, she can see beads of sweat along his hairline, despite the frigid temperature. “I’m… um, sorry about the last time I was here. I was a different person then, and I deeply regret how I treated you.”

A long, intense moment passes before her grandmother’s mouth curves just slightly at the edges. “You’re forgiven. Assuming that you can behave yourself, this time.” Her eyes flick to her granddaughter and the implication makes Katara wish that the ice would open up and swallow her whole.

Zuko nods sharply, straightening his spine and subtly inching away from Katara. “Yes, Lady Kanna.”

“Call me Gran-Gran,” the old woman deadpans.

“Welcome to the Southern Water Tribe, Fire Lord Zuko.” Her father extends his hand and Zuko grasps his forearm.

“Chief Hakoda. A pleasure as always.”

“Glad you could finally find the time in your busy schedule to visit our part of the world.”

Katara can hear the teasing in her father’s voice, but Zuko doesn’t know him well enough to pick up on it. “I – well, I would have liked to have come sooner, and the Fire Nation values our alliance, but – “

Hakoda laughs and claps him on the shoulder. “Calm down, son. We’re glad you could make it.” He raises a brow. “Though for someone so busy, I’m surprised that you were able to arrive ahead of schedule.”

“…Well, the winds were in our favor, and – “

Hakoda gives him a skeptical look. “I don’t see any sails on that ship.”

“What I meant to say is – “

“Stop sputtering, Sparky, Dad’s just messing with you.” An arm comes up around his shoulders from the other side as Sokka embraces him in a sideways hug.

Zuko ducks his head and smiles. “Right.”

“Well, now that you’re here, let me show you around.” Katara watches with astonishment as Sokka starts to pull him in the direction of the village.  Her brother’s spare arm waves grandly at the huts and igloos. “As you can see, we’ve expanded in the past two years since the war ended, and – “

Her hands find her hips. “Sokka!”

He pauses and gives her a look over his shoulder. “What, Katara? Can’t you see the men are talking, here?”

“The _men_?” She balls her fists and marches over, tugging at Zuko’s free arm. “Zuko is _my_ guest. _I’ll_ show him around. Go polish your sword or something.”

Sokka smirks. “Careful sis, any angrier and you might just crack another iceberg.”

A noise escapes from her throat that sounds an awful lot like a disgruntled rhino, and she points toward their hut. Her words grind through her teeth. “That’ll be the least of your worries if you don’t go find something else to do.”

His hands come out in supplication. “Okay, okay.” He fixes Zuko with a hopeful look. “Speaking of swords – spar later?”

Zuko nods but Katara just glares. “ _Bye_ , Sokka.”

She turns to her father and grandmother, sees the crowd dispersing. “I’m going to give Zuko a tour; see you all for dinner later?”

Her father waves. “Of course. Have fun.”

“But not _too_ much fun!”

_“Sokka!”_

Trying to hide her blush, she quickly links her arm with Zuko’s and leads him in the opposite direction. By the time they make it to the eastern edge of the village Katara thinks her coloring might have finally returned to normal.  She clears her throat.

“Sorry about my family. I don’t know why they’re acting like that. I swear, since turning eighteen Sokka’s ‘manliness’ has returned with a vengeance.”

Zuko chuckles. “It’s okay. I’ll take your family over mine any day.”

Her palm meets her forehead. “Ugh. I’m sorry. Again. I wasn’t thinking.” She smiles. “What about your Uncle? He’s not so bad.”

“Depends on your system of measurement. If you mean that he isn’t a megalomanical evil mastermind, then no, he’s not so bad. If you mean that he’s an insufferable flirt and a meddler, then your family can’t even compete.” He gives her a sideways glance. “You remember the last time you were in the capital when he was there.”

She smiles at the memory. It was months ago, before she and Zuko had put a name to the fragile feelings that were blossoming between them. Iroh’s hints couldn’t have been more obvious, and he seemed to delight in making his nephew squirm. Still, she knew his heart was in the right place.

“I don’t know, I think he’s kind of sweet.”

“Just don’t tell _him_ that. But you’re right; I suppose I’ll keep him.” He surveys the tundra that’s spread out before them as they walk past the last home on the edge of town. “Weren’t you supposed to be giving me a tour? We’re headed away from the village.”

“Oh!” In her haste to escape from prying eyes she hadn’t really been paying attention to their trajectory. Thinking fast, she says, “Well, there’s more to the South Pole than just the village. You can see more of that later. For now, I want to show you one of my favorite places.”

Hand in hand, they cross a wide stretch of tundra, picking up their feet to trudge through snow drifts that are shin deep in places. Next to her, she can hear Zuko’s breathing, rhythmic and heavy. Out in the open, the wind whips through her hair and she pulls up her hood.

“Is it much farther?”

“Don’t tell me you’re tired already. Can’t handle a little cold, Fire Lord?”

“I’d hardly call this a _little_ cold. And I’m not really dressed for it. I didn’t know we’d be spending this much time outdoors.”

She looks at his red cheeks and frowns in concern. “Sorry. We’re almost there. It’ll be worth it though, you’ll see.”

Wiping at his nose, he says, “How have your people survived in this? I mean, I’m a firebender, and even with my bending I’m freezing.”

She recites their basic survival strategy by rote. “Warm furs, warm fires, and warm bodies.”

“Warm… bodies?”

“Sure. In the long winter months we sometimes share a communal space to sleep, because the collective body heat keeps us alive. When you live down here, you use what you’ve got.”

The sea comes into view, the horizon blending almost seamlessly into the cloudless sky. They walk a little further until they reach a sheer drop. She leads him to the edge, and when she peers down a sliver of the shore is visible at the bottom. Thank the spirits for low tide.

“Is this what you wanted to show me? It’s a beautiful view.”

She grins. “It is a great view. But this isn’t it.” She detaches from him and teeters on the edge. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

“Then come over here and hold on tight.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice. Two arms snake around her middle, holding her securely. “Like this?”

“Good. Don’t let go.”

Before he can reply she is calling the sea to her, and with a flick of her wrists the streams split and wrap around them, the chill seeping through their clothes in the brief instant it takes for her to transport them to the shore below. As soon as they have their footing she unwinds the frigid ropes and sends them back to the sea. Zuko releases her and steps back.

“That’s some way to travel.”

“That’s nothing.” She grabs his hand and pulls him along. “Come on!”

A cave entrance opens up at the base of the cliff, its mouth jagged and dark. His footsteps slow as they approach. “We’re going in there?”

“It’s what I want to show you.”

He looks unsure. “Is it safe?”

She smirks. “Don’t worry. I’ll hold your hand if you get scared.”

He glances down. “You’re already holding my hand.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about. Let’s go!”

Together they enter the cave. The walls are narrow, but become darker and wider the deeper they go. In her periphery she can see deepening shadows from where the cave branches off, creating tunnels that crisscross within the cliff side. When she determines that they have gone far enough, she lets go and turns to face him.

“A little light, please?”

“Sure.” Fire blooms in his hand. Immediately his eyes track upward and his jaw drops. “Oh, wow.”

All around them the surface of the cave glitters and sparks, refracted light dancing to the rhythm of the flame. Long stalactites reach down from the high domed ceiling, letting occasional drops of water escape from their tips. Katara beams as she watches him take it in.

“During high tide this place fills with water, and when it recedes the water freezes again. Sokka and I used to come down here all the time as kids. We had to take the long way, of course, since I couldn’t bend back then.”

“It’s astounding. Like being inside a giant gemstone.” He frowns. “Or like the crystal catacombs.”

Her smile falters. “I hadn’t thought of that…”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Ugh, I can’t believe I brought that up. Forget I said anything.”

Her heart squeezes. “Zuko...” She closes the distance between them with a few steps, and raises her gloved hand to rest on the side of his face. He drops his arm and leans into her touch. “That was a long time ago. Things are different now.” She gives him a wry smile. “After all, now I can do this.”

On tiptoe she brushes her lips against his. Without hesitation he brings his free arm up to cradle her hair. When he pulls away he is smiling. “I wish you would have done that back then.”

Her face is skeptical. “Right. Like _that_ would have happened. Besides, what would you have done if I had?”

His eyes sparkle like the cave walls. “I can’t say for sure, but it definitely would have gotten a reaction.”

Katara snorts. “Yeah, it would have gotten me burned to a crisp.”

His hand finds her hip, gently tugging her closer. “Maybe, maybe not.” His eyes flick to the fingers still lightly tracing over the edges of glossy flesh. “After all, I let you get away with that unscathed.”

Her fingers still. “What do you mean?”

He gives a shrug and a half smile. “Before you, no one had ever touched my scar. I wouldn’t allow it.”

Her mind twists on the enormity of the statement, sifting through the implications. “Really?”

“Really.”

“I don’t know what to say…”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just come here.”

Just as she is reaching for him a low, dangerous growl vibrates though the cave, and they both freeze.

“Oh no…”

Zuko’s good has gone wide. In a hushed whisper, he says, “What was that?”

Before she can answer the growl is followed by a deafening roar and the sound of claws shearing the ice. She grabs his hand and makes a dash for the cave entrance. “Time to go!”

Her heart is pounding as loudly as the footsteps behind her, footsteps which she hopes are just Zuko’s but which is isn’t brave enough to confirm by looking back. As soon as the daylight touches them she is calling for the water with one hand, gripping his in the other as she rockets them both upward. In her haste she misjudges the distance, and they soar up and over the lip of the cliff before crashing down into the snowbanks. She grunts as she rolls to a stop a few feet away from him. Once her breathing evens out she calls out to him.

“You okay?”

Only the wind answers.

“Zuko?” She props herself up on her elbows and glances to her left. A gloved hand peeks out from underneath a crumpled snowdrift. Her blood stills. _“Zuko!”_

With a wave of her hand she pushes the snow away, leaving the surface of his black coat and his hair dusted white. On hands and knees she scrambles toward him, and without putting any pressure on him she straddle his hips, shaking him lightly by the lapels of his coat. “Zuko? Are you okay? Say something!”

A low groan issues from his parted lips and bathes her in relief. He cracks his eyes open. “Katara…”

She leans down to hear him better. “Yes? Are you hurt? I’m so sorry, I – “

She yelps as something cold meets the back of her head and grinds into her hair. Automatically she sits up, and when she looks back at Zuko he is smirking, the remains of a snowball perched in his upturned palm.

“Hey!” She scowls, dusting the snow out of her hair. “What was that for?”

He pushes himself up and leans back on one hand, looking smug. “That’s for scaring me half to death down there.”

“So you decided to scare me back by playing dead?” Her eyes flick to his chest. “ _Not_ funny, Zuko.”

He flinches. “Right. Sorry. But you’re changing the subject.  I thought you said it was safe down there!”

“I thought it was!”

“Then what in Agni’s name _was_ that?”

She crosses her arms and looks away, heat rushing to her cheeks. “…Well, Gran-Gran used to tell us that there were polar leopards that hibernated in the caves around here, but Sokka and I never saw one so we thought she was just saying that to scare us.”

She expects him to keep chastising her, but instead he just chuckles in the back of his throat. “You know, I entertained a lot of scenarios of what this trip might be like when I was on my way here, but I have to say, being chased by a man-eating animal mere hours after disembarking was a possibility that never crossed my mind.”

She worries her bottom lip between her teeth. “Not quite what you were expecting?”

“Not quite. But you’re full of surprises, and I like that.” He smiles and sits up fully, letting his hands tangle in her hair. “Besides, now you owe me one for taking a few years off my life.”

She leans into him, letting her arms come up around his shoulders. “Oh? And what would you like?”

“Didn’t you say something earlier about body heat?”

She blushes, but just as she is about to retort his head jerks forward and he winces.

“Ow.” Scowling, he reaches back to brush hard-packed snow out of his hair. “Katara, that _hurt_.”

She blinks wide eyes. “That wasn’t me.”

“I thought I told you not to have too much fun!”

_“Sokka!”_

Her brother appears from behind a snowbank, brandishing a second snowball. He tosses it casually into the air and catches it with ease. “Is this what you’ve been doing out here all this time?”

With as much dignity as she can muster, she climbs out of Zuko’s lap and stands to face him. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I wanted to show Zuko the caves. How did you find us, anyway?”

Sokka gestures at the expanse of tundra leading back to the village. “You don’t have to be a master tracker to follow two pairs of foot-deep footprints in the snow.”

Katara resists the urge to groan. “Fine. What do you want?”

He chucks the snowball over the cliff edge. “Gran-Gran asked me to come find you and let you know that dinner will be ready soon. We shouldn’t be late if we hurry.”

Dusting herself off, she holds out a hand and pulls Zuko up off of the ground. “Okay, we’re right behind you.”

Sokka rolls his eyes and grabs her hand. “No, _now_ Katara. You know how Gran-Gran gets about these things. You can play kissy-face with the Fire Lord later. Right now it’s time to eat.”

She snatches her hand back but keeps pace with him, with Zuko trailing behind. “Oh, like you won’t do the same thing once Suki gets here!”

Her brother squares his shoulders. “Yeah, well, I’m older than you, which means that I’m mature enough to make those kind of decisions.”

She scoffs. “Don’t give me that. I’ll be seventeen in a few days; older than mom was when she and dad were betrothed.” She points behind them. “Besides, if this is about age, are you forgetting that _Zuko_ is older than _you_?”

He holds up one gloved finger. “That’s precisely my point. I know how older men think, and as your big brother it’s my job to keep an eye on you.” He calls out over his shoulder, “No offense, Zuko.”

“None taken.”

Katara reaches up and fists her hands in the fur at the edge of her hood, pulling it low over her eyes as she groans in frustration. “You’re impossible, Sokka.”

Oblivious, her brother reaches out and throws an arm over her shoulder. “You might not think so now, but someday you’ll thank me. This was all so much easier when you were dating Aang, since he was younger – “

Katara stiffens and pushes his arm away. “Why would you bring that up?”

“I didn’t mean – “

She quickens her pace. “Forget it. Let’s just go home.”

From behind her, she can hear Sokka’s stage whisper directed at Zuko -  _Women, am I right?_ – and her feet pound into the snow as she makes her way back to the village.

If Katara had thought that being caught snuggling in the snow by her brother was awkward, it was nothing compared to dinner. She’d take Sokka’s ‘lectures’ any day over this. She might even prefer the polar leopard.

With a tip of her wrist she ladles a healthy portion of stew into a bowl and serves her father, who sits at the head of the table. Gathered around the table are her brother, her grandmother, her new grandfather, and Zuko. When she finishes serving everyone she takes a seat between her brother and boyfriend. The only sound is of clinking dishes and scraping utensils until Zuko clears his throat.

“This is delicious, Lady Kanna. Thank you for the meal.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “I told you to call me Gran-Gran.”

Zuko’s eyes drop to his bowl. “Of course. Gran-Gran. My mistake.”

Hakoda laughs. “Now, now. That’s no way to treat visiting royalty. Tell us, Zuko, how fares the Fire Nation?”

Zuko dabs at his mouth. “Stability is improving, but the citizens are still adjusting to peacetime. Aang’s efforts have helped to establish or maintain trade with otherwise wary or resentful provinces. With continued peace, we expect the economy to rebound within the next five years or so.”

Katara suppresses a smile at his answer. He’s grown to be quite the politician; he’s learned so much in such a short time.

“Problems adjusting to peacetime, you say?”

“The poorest of the citizens sent their sons to die in a war that was unjust and unwinnable, and the wealthiest are tightening their purse strings at the loss of profits from the war machine. Their discontent is understandable, and, with any luck, transitory.”

Katara can see the way her father is weighing his words, the way he’s listening between the lines. _I can’t believe it. He’s_ vetting _him._ She resists the urge to crawl under the table.

“I see. And what about internal affairs? Is the capital secure?”

Translation: is it safe? Is my _daughter_ safe when she visits?

But Zuko seems to hear it too, and he maintains eye contact when he responds. “The capital has always been among the most secure locations in the country. The palace in particular is designed as a stronghold. No system is completely immune, of course, but the fact that I am still breathing two years after deposing Ozai suggests that my people are trustworthy.” He smiles. “Aside from attacks by rebel factions, the capital has weathered or defended against threats with ease.”

Her father’s brows rise. “Rebel factions?”

Zuko smiles and takes a bite of his stew. “You may have heard. We suffered a lapse of security during an eclipse a while back when a team of formidable warriors infiltrated the palace.”

Hakoda laughs out loud. “Yes, I might have heard something about that.” He shares a knowing smile with Zuko and Katara releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She thinks she might finally be able to relax, but then her grandfather speaks up.

“So, firebender – “

“That’s Fire _Lord_ , GranPakku.”

He frowns at Sokka. “Grand _father_.” He redirects his gaze to Zuko. “As I was saying, firebender, I understand that you have designs on my granddaughter.”

Katara’s jaw drops and Zuko seems to shrink in his chair, all previous confidence vanished. “Designs?”

Pakku leans forward. “That’s right. Plan to marry her, do you? Arrange a marriage and steal her away to the Fire Nation?”

Zuko’s eyes flit to Katara before skating away. “I – we haven’t talked about anything like that, we’ve only been together for half a year, and – “

“Because let me tell you, if that’s your plan you can forget it. Water Tribe women are notoriously stubborn and strong-willed. Just ask this one.” He jerks a thumb at Gran-Gran, who gives him a self-satisfied smile.

Catching on, Zuko relaxes a little. “I’m well aware of the strengths of Water Tribe women. Katara keeps me in line, not the other way around. I wouldn’t dream of trying to force her to do anything.”

Forgetting herself, Katara snorts. “Yeah, except for that time you tied me to a tree.”

He smirks at her. “And you remember how well that turned out.”

A chorus of male voices startles them both out of the memory. _“You WHAT?!”_

After much placation and even more shared discomfort, dinner mercifully comes to an end. Katara was beyond ready to escape the house for a little while. After helping with cleanup she finds Zuko deep in conversation with her brother about the quality of weapons available in the South Pole. After waiting for an opening, she announces her presence by laying a hand on his shoulder.

“You ready for that tour, now?”

Zuko glances out the window, and then gives an apologetic look to both Water Tribe siblings. “Actually, it’s getting pretty late. I should probably be getting back to my ship.”

Katara clasps her hands in front of her. “I’ll come with you!”

“Katara!” Sokka looks appalled. “You can’t possibly think that – “

Katara gives him a weary look. “Can it, Sokka. I’m not going to spend the night or anything. I just want to see where Zuko’s staying.” She looks to Zuko. “Please? I promise not to keep you up.”

Zuko looks like he’s about to say something but glances at Sokka and thinks better of it. “That would be fine.” He stands and offers his arm.

Together they walk the short distance to his ship, the prow still lowered to display a sprawling staircase. He nods to the guards at the base who bow as he passes. It’s been a long time since she has been on a Fire Nation ship, surrounded by metal and steam rather than wood and wind. They climb a series of switchback staircases until they come to a brief hallway dotted with burning braziers. The door at the end is a little more ornate than the others they pass, but other than that it is non-descript. Digging in a pocket, he produces a key which he uses to unlock the door. He pushes it open and invites her inside.

She takes in his quarters. The furnishings are sleek and sparse. Along one wall is a bed, and along another is a desk. A sheath containing his broadswords is propped in one corner, and his heavy coat is folded over the back of a chair. Moonlight filters in from a single porthole, and beneath it stands a short, long table dotted with half-melted candles. With a snap of his fingers he lights the lamp next to the desk, illuminating the stack of paperwork piled there.

“This is it. My home away from home.”

“It’s… not as fancy as I thought it would be.”

He laughs. “What did you expect?”

“I don’t know. You’re the Fire Lord. Maybe a few cushions, at least. More gold. Something.”

He shrugs out of his coat. “I don’t need any of that. I’m surrounded by enough of that at home.”

From the other side of the desk something _chirps_ , and Katara jumps. “You have a pet?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Actually, that’s for you.”

“You brought _me_ a pet?”

From behind the desk he produces a large gilded cage with a red ribbon on top. Inside is an especially large messenger hawk. He shoves a few papers aside and sets it on the desk. He gives her a hopeful look. “Happy birthday?”

Of all of the gifts that she might have envisioned getting from her boyfriend on her seventeenth birthday, this was certainly not on the list. Tentatively, she approaches the cage and the bird within gives a loud squawk. She flinches.

“You don’t like it.”

Her face falls at his hurt expression. “Of course I do! Thank you.” She hugs him, keeping a wary eye on the bird with its beady black eyes. “But… you do know that we have a fleet of them here, right? And Sokka even lets me use Hawky sometimes, when he’s not busy sending letters to Suki.”

“I thought you should have your own. This particular breed is known for its superior speed and accuracy. Since we live so far apart, I just thought…”

_Oh_. Her heart curls in on the edges, and she smiles up at him. “Thank you, Zuko. That’s really thoughtful.”

He gives her a quick kiss. “You’re welcome. I have a set of instructions, if you need them.”

“That would be great.” She gives him a teasing smile. “So should I just act surprised on my birthday when you give it to me?”

His eyes skip away. “About that…”

Her skin goes cold. “What?”

“Let’s sit down.” He leads her over to the bed, which sinks beneath them. It’s the first and only sign of comfort in the entire room, but she barely notices. He’s worrying her hands within his own and biting his lip. Anxiety rakes icy fingers through her gut.

“What is it, Zuko? What do you need to tell me?”

A heavy sigh escapes from him. “I’m not going to be here for your birthday. We’ll be heading back the day after tomorrow.”

Concern washes over her like a wave. “Is something wrong? Spirits, Zuko, if you’re needed in the Fire Nation I would have understood if you couldn’t come.”

“No! No, it’s nothing like that. Things are fine back home. They can live without me for a few days.”

Relief floods her, only to be replaced with disappointment. “Then why can’t you stay? It’s just one more day.”

“I just can’t. It’s not a good idea.”

“Is this because of my family? Because they’re just giving you a hard time. I know they like you, and if you’ll give them a chance – “

“No! It’s nothing like that either. I like them a lot. Sokka and I are friends, you know that, and I have nothing but respect for your father and waterbending master. Gran-Gran too.”

She tries to ignore the stinging behind her eyes. “Then why? I don’t understand.”

He looks away. “I’d rather not say.”

She breaks away from him. “You’re _hiding_ something from me?”

“No! I mean, yes, but it’s not like you think.”

Disappointment weighs heavy and sour in her gut. “I thought we were past this, Zuko.”

“We are! I don’t like it either, but just believe me when I say that this is for the best.”

Disappointment curdles to anger, and she’s on her feet before she even registers moving. “For the _best_? Since when do you get to decide what’s _best_ for me?” He blurs in her vision, and she turns to cover her tears.

There’s a rustle of clothing, and she can practically see him running a hand through his hair. “That came out wrong. Look, it’s not that important. I just can’t stay, alright? Please believe me that it’s not something you should trouble yourself with.”

She takes a shaking breath. “If you can’t be honest with me, then this isn’t going to work out very well. I can’t do this with you. Not now. I can’t believe…”

She hears the bed creak as he stands, and feels his hands as they fall lightly on her shoulders. “Katara, you can’t mean that.”

She won’t look at him. Old hurts, things she thought were long forgotten and long forgiven, awaken from places deep within to pierce her heart. “What am I supposed to think, Zuko? I thought I could trust you. But you’re keeping secrets from me.”

He gently spins her to face him. “It’s not like that. Look at me.” She sniffs but keeps her eyes locked on the metal plates at her feet. “Hey.”

With effort she looks into his eyes, and her tears are renewed at the sincerity in them. Gently he wipes them away with the back of his fingers. “I – “ He looks away, takes a deep breath. When his eyes find hers again, he looks like he’s pleading. “I love you. I would never hurt you like that again.  You have to believe me.”

Her heart stutters in her chest. How long had she been waiting to hear those words? How many different times had she caught herself in a daydream, lost in the fantasy of just how he would say it and when and where? As if the situation weren’t bad enough, her chest constricts at the loss of her fantasies, the way her perfect, romantic moment seems stolen from her. It should have been panda lilies and sweet kisses and soft sighs, not tears and dishonesty and metal walls.

She gathers her courage and tries to focus. She steps out of his arms. “You don’t get it. You _are_ hurting me. When you keep things from me, it hurts. And I can’t – _I won’t_ – “

She turns and sprints out of his room, down the hallway, her feet clanging against the steel stairs as she takes them two at a time. She can hear him calling for her to wait, but she only runs faster. When she makes it to the deck she doesn’t even bother using the stairs, she whips her arms around her and calls the sea, riding it to the shore below. If his guards are shocked she can’t be bothered to care; she just breathes heavily as she weighs her options.

She can’t go home, not right now. She doesn’t even want to go back to the village for fear of running into her well-meaning neighbors. Instead, she turns and jogs the length of the docks, stopping only when she finds her father’s fleet. Bypassing the massive fishing vessels, she keeps running until she finds just what she is looking for: a small catamaran bobbing with the swell of the waves. With practiced hands she picks the knots and unwinds the ropes that tether the craft to the dock, and within moments she is propelling it forward, pushing herself out to sea. The burn in her muscles as she commands the waves is comforting in its familiarity; she bends until the anger in her heart subsides, leaving behind a dull and heavy ache.

Bringing the catamaran to a coast, she picks her way to the prow while letting it drift and crest. With a deep breath she settles back against the mast, listening to the creak of the wood and the gentle flapping of the sail. Shivering, she pulls up her hood. Glancing behind her she can see the docks at a distance, the lights from the village and the Fire Nation ship winking along the coastline.

She sighs and turns back to the horizon, the water and sky inky black, pricked with pinpoints of white from the stars.  Directly above her Yue shines with all her might, casting a soft glow over them all. Looking at the scene, she wishes everything could be so calm, so black-and-white. She should have known better.

It’s not as though she expected relationships to be easy – the year she had spent with Aang following the war’s end had been equal parts delight and heartbreak – but she had at least expected to face new challenges, not fight off old ghosts. And yet here they were, back to haunt her and cast a shroud over her happiness.

_I thought you had changed._

He _had_ changed. She was sure of it. Just as _she_ had changed. The war, the struggle, the losses – the world seemed to redefine itself with every new victory or defeat, but she had been so certain that despite the whirlwind of change she would remain the same, like the cool, unflappable center in the eye of a storm. But the comet – or rather the events of the comet – had been enough to send gentle tremors through her solid foundation, to create jagged, hairline cracks in the fragile casing of her understanding of truth. It didn’t shatter her worldview or crumble her core; she wasn’t brought to her knees under the weight of epiphany.  It was more like a subtle shift in the light – it cast pale shadows where none were before, and illuminated corners that had been best kept in the dark. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. And those shadows only shifted and grew in the months following their victory, leaving her edgy and unsure in a time of peace. It was unnamable, this shift, but it was more palpable every time she and Zuko crossed paths.

It wasn’t just her. The odd, fleeting changes in his expression when they met at this gathering or that summit meeting, the flickering softness in his eyes when she would pull away from his embrace upon greeting him – she knew that he had seen it too. That subtle change in the light, the one that shouldn’t have changed much but ended up changing everything.  The future that she had known – had fought _so hard_ for - suddenly wasn’t the future she wanted. It was a good future, a safe future – but she knew it would be an empty one.

It hurt, to see that truth. It was prickly and painful when she picked it up to examine it closely, it sent waves of longing and sadness careening through her body, wedged shards of ice under her ribs. But it shone much too brightly to be ignored. In the end, she knew what had to be done.

It hadn’t been easy. And even after closing one door and wading through the loss and the guilt of it, she found herself hesitant to open another – the new future that beckoned her was far from certain, and the path was likely to be rough. In the end she reconciled herself to taking the steps, to gently prying open the new door and facing a new destiny.

The Fire Nation palace started receiving a lot more messages from the South Pole after that.

It started slowly, carefully. They didn’t talk about it, the change in the light. But she could tell they both felt it. The first time he had kissed her – hands trembling in her hair, eyes squeezed tight – released a weight she hadn’t known she had been carrying, the burden of doubt that she had made the right choice. She had held him tightly, afterward, knowing that this – _this_ – was the right thing.

They were still Zuko and Katara. She was still stubborn and willful and hopeful and loyal; he was still serious and pragmatic and dedicated and self-sacrificing. That much hadn’t changed. But the difference – the one that counted – was that together they were _more_. Together they were laughter and kindness and teasing, together they were conflict and struggle and reprieve. Together, she thought, they had the strength to endure.

But she was still Katara, and she had been wrong about people before. She had been wrong about _him_ before. She had been so sure, but maybe the things that had changed weren’t the things that needed to. Maybe some things stayed exactly the same, hidden below the surface, waiting to be revealed at the most vulnerable, inopportune time.  And now it was over before it even had the chance to begin.

Her throat closes around the disappointment that threatens to choke her, and when she cries the tears sting her cheeks. She huddles deeper into her parka and pleads with Yue to give her an answer, but the moon stays silent and cold.

A rumbling engine surprises her out of her thoughts, and she turns just in time to see Zuko pull up beside the catamaran in speedboat. Though it’s a smaller, sleeker model, she recognizes the design from the soldiers she had fought when she had masqueraded as the Painted Lady. She pushes the memory of it away, along with the mixed feelings that accompany it.

“How’d you know where to find me?”

“Tracking people is my specialty, remember?” He clears his throat. “My crew spotted you.”

“Well, you wasted a trip. I don’t want to see you right now.”

He cuts the engine and bobs out of sync beside her. “Katara, please just hear me out.”

She wipes her tears away and tries to muster the energy to scowl at him. “Why? So you can lie to me some more? No thanks.”

“No, so I can tell you the truth.”

A part of her wants to tell him exactly where he can stick his ‘truth,’ but the other part  - that stubborn, hopeful part – won’t let her. She gives him a level glare.

“This better be good.”

He swings one leg over the seat of his boat, but then stops. “May I?”

“Suit yourself.”

With a calculated leap he hops onto the catamaran, teetering on the edge for just an instant until he finds his balance. Steady, now, he makes his way to her, sitting next to her on the prow.  There’s a long moment of silence before he says, “I know you’re angry.”

She snorts. “You got that right.”

“And I know you’re disappointed.”

Her tone softens. “You’re right about that, too.”

 “I know you’re disappointed _in_ me, but believe me when I say I was really, _really_ reluctant to share this with you.”

She huffs. “Quit stalling. Just get it over with and let me decide for myself just how devastating this secret is.”

He takes a deep breath and studies the sea. “I’m leaving because I don’t want to ruin your birthday.”

Her face contorts as though she bit into something foul. “Ruin it? How could you ruin it? I _want_ you there! _Everyone_ wants you there! In fact, everyone will be disappointed not to see you!”

He hangs his head. “Maybe… maybe not everyone.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Mentally she ticks through the guest list. “Who wouldn’t want…” But then she knows. Her expression falls. “This is about Aang.”

“Yeah. It is.”

Realization dawns, cold and gray. “Did he say something to you? Did you guys discuss this?

Zuko shakes his head, his hair falling over his eyes. “No. I haven’t seen him since he was helping to broker a trade agreement with me in the southern Earth Kingdom a few months ago.”

“And? Was he rude to you or something?” Even as she says it she knows it can’t be true. It’s impossible to even imagine – the Aang she knows is kindhearted, upbeat, _forgiving_.

“No. He was… distant. Not cold, or unfriendly, just…” He runs a hand through his hair. “I could tell he was hurting. I think it might be too soon for him to see us together.”

Katara shakes her head. “I don’t understand. Aang and I… that’s been over for almost a year. He wasn’t like that this spring at the reunion.”

“We weren’t together then.” Leaning back on his hands, he directs his gaze at the stars. “I don’t know, maybe he still had hope that you would reconcile, or maybe it’s because it’s me… either way, I just don’t want to hurt him more than he already is.”

“You shouldn’t have to protect him, Zuko. He’s fifteen. He’s not a child anymore.”

“He’s my friend. _Our_ friend. And I don’t want our relationship to come between us. Any of us.”

She turns to him. “But you’d have it the other way around? Risk our relationship for the sake of our friendships?” Her anger is misdirected and she knows it – coddling Aang was something she had grown weary of quickly after the war’s end, and to see it manifested in Zuko only amplifies her irritation. “You would risk me for the sake of him?”

His voice is stern. “No. I don’t want to risk losing anyone, _especially_ you.” She watches as his hand creeps up to rub the space below his heart, an unconscious habit he’s picked in the aftermath of Sozin’s Comet. “I thought I could come up with a compromise. It didn’t occur to me that it would come to that.”

“Come to what?”

“Choosing between you. Is that what you want?”

“No! I want all of us to be friends, the way it used to be. I want us all to be a family.” She deflates. “I want Aang to stop ruining things.”

He lays his hand lightly over hers. “You can’t think like that. This was my decision, not his. And this is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t want you to be mad at him, or think less of him. He’ll get over it eventually, but right now he’s in pain. If you want to be mad at anyone, be mad at me.”

“Oh, is that what you want?”

“No, but I can handle it. And if you feel even a fraction of the way I do, I think that we can handle it too. Together.”

She sees the hope in his eyes, the pleading. “You care about him that much?”

“Yes. And I know you do too.”

She knows that he’s right. Underneath the pain and disappointment and anger she knows that this is an argument she doesn’t even _want_ to win. The light shifts just a little more as she studies him. It’s not that she’s surprised by his compassion, or even his self-sacrifice. Those are things she knows are a fundamental part of him. It’s the realization, slow and sweet, that his values are hers – if given the same choice, she is certain that she would have done the same. Something inside of her warms a little, something bright that melts and thaws and awakens something raw and fresh and new.

She shuffles a little closer to him, jostles him with her elbow. “You know, this would have been a lot easier if you had just told me.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll be upfront with you in the future.” He peeks at her from the corner of his eye. “There _will_ be a future, right?”

She smiles, and it feels good. “Only if you’re on your best behavior.” She snuggles a little closer.  “Not everything you said earlier was bad, though.”

Next to him, she can feel him stiffen. “Oh?”

She nods. Her eyes keep skipping away when she tries to look at him. “You, um, you said you loved me earlier.”

His expression turns serious. “I did. I do.”

She bites her lip. “Tell me again?”

He removes one glove so that he can run his thumb along her cheek and trace his fingers through her hair.

“I love you, Katara. For longer than I even knew, and more than you could ever know.”

She studies his eyes; they are sincere again, the eyes she knows she can trust. “I love you too, Zuko.”

He blinks, his expression equal parts hopeful and scared. “You do?”

“Yeah. I think I really do.”

Without warning her arms are full of firebender as he pulls her into his warmth. A small part of her heart sings – it wasn’t panda lilies and poetry, but it was memorable all the same.

When he pulls away he takes his warmth with him, and she shivers.

“You’re cold. Maybe we should be heading back.”

She reaches for his hand. “No, I’m fine. Let’s just stay a little longer, okay?”

He seems to consider something. “I know just what will help.”

He stands and shimmies his way between Katara and the mast, allowing her to settle back against warm furs rather than hard wood. His arms come around to circle her waist and his legs cage her in on either side. She snuggles in to his warmth.

“Better?”

“Mmm, much.”

“There are some perks to dating a firebender.”

She laughs. “I suppose that dating their leader has a few perks as well.”

“Fewer than you might imagine, but…” One hand leaves her waist and she can feel him digging in his coat.  “Close your eyes.”

She obeys, and he shifts until his arms have come up and around her shoulders. When he tells her to open them, something long and studded with gemstones is stretched out in front of her face.

She laughs. “I suppose you’re going to demand the location of the Avatar, next.”

“What? Oh!” He laughs with her. “I can’t save you from the pirates this time, there aren’t any around.”

“Pft, I think I’m more than capable of handling them myself now, thank you very much.” A stray thought occurs. “What about my messenger hawk?”

“I would have to be completely oblivious to present my girlfriend with only a bird for her birthday. Give me a little more credit, I’m not Sokka.”

A giggle escapes her lips. “What you mean to say is that Uncle Iroh helped you pick this out, right?”

He draws on his most royal voice. “As Fire Lord, I have been known to take the advice of others on occasion.”

She laughs. “That’s what I thought.” She takes it from him, her breath catching as she marvels at the sparkling red stones. “This is gorgeous, Zuko.” She holds it out.  “It’s a little short for a necklace though.”

“I would never presume to compete with your mother’s necklace. It’s a bracelet.”

She turns part way in his lap to kiss him. “Thank you. It’s breathtaking, really. Help me put it on?”

She takes off her glove and allows him to loop the bracelet around her wrist and adjust the clasp. The stones seem to glow in the moonlight.

“If you like, you can wear it on your birthday, as a reminder that I’ll be thinking about you.”

“I think I’ll do that” She turns back around and admires the bracelet, leaning into the heat at her back. A sense of satisfaction washes over her as his arms settle around her once again. The day had been full of unexpected events and challenges, but this was an ending she could wholeheartedly endorse. She wishes that they could stay this way forever, and almost says so when she hears Zuko stifle a yawn from behind her. She smiles.

“You know, there might be some perks to dating a firebending Fire Lord, but there’s some downsides too.”

“And what might those be?”

She laughs. “Well, that whole thing about rising with the sun is _definitely_ not a perk.”

His chuckle rumbles against her back. “You caught me. But I confess, the nights are pretty spectacular too; I can’t blame you for favoring them.”

She sighs and watches the waves. “It’s beautiful out here, isn’t it?”

He snuggles closer, props his chin on her shoulder. “It is. And so are you.”

She blushes. “Zuko…”

“I mean it. I was struck by it even as I was riding out here.  All I could see was your silhouette against the sea, the stars and the moon reflecting on the water… you looked so beautiful, like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.  Like you were home.”

She squeezes his hand. “I _am_ home.”

His breath puffs against her cheek. “I suppose it was a silly thing to say. I mean, of course the sea is your home. You’re a waterbender from the South Pole.”

“True, but… it’s more than that. It’s the stars sparkling on the water, and the smell of the sea, but…” She tilts her head back to lean her cheek against his. “I think that this is home, too.”

She can feel his smile against her cheek. “I couldn’t agree more.”


	2. Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter brought to you by the ZW2016 prompts “lilac” and “candles.”

“And that, most honorable Lord Zuko, is why we humbly ask that the Nakajima Steel Works be allowed to retain the seventy acres of land generously gifted to its shareholders fifteen years ago.”

Underneath her heavy robes, Katara can feel a bead of sweat trickle down her spine, and she resists the urge to scratch the itch it leaves in its wake. The throne room is stifling – a product of the early summer heat and the many supplicants crammed into the room – and the low burning flames in front of them don’t help. To her left, Zuko kneels on a plush cushion, back rigid and stiff. All morning they have been hearing civil disputes. Though Zuko is doing his best to hide his impatience, she has long since learned to read his tells – the tick in his jaw, the occasional flex of his fingers. Not to mention the low growl in his stomach; lunchtime has come and gone. There was an end in sight, however, as this was the final case of the day.

Keeping the weariness out of his voice, Zuko addresses the supplicants. “Citizen Yano, businessman Hamamoto, you have succeeded in bringing a difficult case before us. There are no easy answers, but today we shall attempt to deliver justice. I require a moment to consider your arguments before issuing a decree. We will take a brief recess.”

With a heavy exhale the flames separating them from the crowd leap and grow, giving them the illusion of privacy. Zuko turns to her, keeping his voice low.

“Any ideas?”

“We can’t let Yano leave empty handed. That land was in his family for generations!”

Zuko pinches the bridge of his nose. “I know. But as Fire Lord, it was within Ozai’s right to confiscate it for the war effort.”

Katara crosses her arms. “We’re not at war anymore! They can’t possibly have the production demands to require that much land.”

“You saw his charts. They’ve converted the factories to manufacture farming equipment. They claim the contracts they hold will keep them busy for years to come.”

She frowns. “I still don’t like it. There has to be another way.”

“If you can think of one, I’d support it.”

Katara wracks her brain, shifting through the information she has gathered from the dusty old texts Zuko’s staff had recommended. It hadn’t been light reading by any means, but she was determined to learn as much about Fire Nation law and customs as she could. Just as she is about to give up hope, inspiration strikes.

“I think I know what to do.”

“Good. Shall we call them back?”

She blinks. “You don’t want to hear my idea first?”

He gives her a soft smile and shakes his head. “I trust you.” He repositions himself on the cushion. “Ready?”

She nods and he lowers the flames. The crowd falls silent. Katara surveys the room, and when she speaks she is thankful that her voice doesn’t shake.

“In the Water Tribe, custom dictates that our neighbor’s needs are our needs, and it is our greatest honor and duty to care for one another.”

Hamamato bows politely. “With utmost respect, my Lady, we are not in the Water Tribe. This is the Fire Nation.”

The flames creep incrementally higher, but Katara is unfazed. “I wasn’t finished.” Hamamato ducks his head. She raises her voice so that it carries to all assembled. “The values of our two nations are more similar than disparate. Now more than ever, in this time of peace, it is crucial that we remember not only the importance of advancement and growth, but also the people who make that growth possible.”

She takes a deep breath, hoping she gets this right. “It is true that in times of conflict citizens are called to sacrifice for their country, but in cases similar to this one citizens have traditionally been given due compensation at the time of their sacrifice or at the first available opportunity.” In her mind, she pictures the dusty old scrolls on military history that had threatened to lull her to sleep on more than one occasion. “Is it not true that decades ago the fishermen on the north side of the island relinquished their right to the land so that the naval base could be expanded?”

Next to her, Zuko nods slowly. She hears the smile in his voice as he catches on. “That is true.”

“And is it also true that those fishermen were each later compensated with one premium sailing vessel once production was completed?”

“That is also true.”

Hamamato takes a step forward, his hands out in supplication. “My Lord, if compensation is what is desired, the Nakajima Steel Works would be willing to accept a compromise.” He makes a show of calculating a sum in his head. “Say, five percent of our profits for the next fifteen years, representing the amount of time we have held the land?”

Katara dismisses her resentment at the direct appeal to Zuko; he was their sovereign, after all, and he had the final say. But instead of responding Zuko turns to Katara. “Is that offer acceptable?”

Citizen Yano steps forward. “My Lord, my Lady, if I may.” He glances at the floor. “My family has no desire for compensation. We simply seek the means to earn our own living, the way we have for decades before our land was taken.”

Zuko gives her a sidelong glance, waiting for her to respond. She prays she isn’t overstepping her bounds. “Citizen Yano, compensation is your due.” He looks crestfallen. “However, compensation in this case will come in the form of a compromise. Fifty acres of your land shall be returned. The Nakajima Steel Works may retain twenty acres, those closest to the manufacturing plant, for continued use.”

Hamamato’s jaw drops. “My Lady! Nakajima Steel Works has built warehouses on the land extending far beyond those limits! We couldn’t possibly relocate them!”

Katara holds up a hand. “You will have time to make a plan. The land will be returned over the course of the next five years, at a rate of ten acres per year. If you wish, you may barter privately with citizen Yano to purchase the land, but it is at his discretion to accept and to set a price.”

Hamamoto’s skin begins turning a patchy, angry red. “You cannot possibly allow this, my Lord!”

Zuko’s gaze is impassive. “Precedent holds. Lady Katara’s ruling is just.”

“My Lord, you must reconsider! The Steel Works is beneficial to the economy, and manufactures the very equipment Yano and others like him would use to till the land! I know that the intricacies of Fire Nation industry and commerce may be difficult for a _foreigner_ to understand, but surely– “

 _“Enough!”_ For an instant the flames roar high enough to lick the ceiling. When they lower, all the eyes in the audience have gone wide. Next to her, Zuko remains still as a statue for a long moment, and she can see Hamamato’s throat bobbing as he swallows hard. “I have reconsidered, as you suggested, businessman Hamamato.”

“You – You have, my Lord?”

“Yes. In addition to Lady Katara’s proposal, I shall _also_ accept yours. For the next fifteen years, five percent of the profits from Nakajima Steel Works shall be gifted to the Yano family, in gratitude for use of their land.”

“But – “

“You wish for it to be ten percent?” Hamamato visibly shrinks. “The agreement is just. Nakajima Steel Works is allowed to maintain twenty acres of land that it did not earn, and a family is being compensated for a sacrifice made during wartime. May Agni bless both of you in your pursuits. Dismissed.” He stands, and Katara lumbers to her feet beside him, making an attempt at grace despite the stiffness in her limbs from sitting so long.

When they step behind the curtain Katara releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Are you sure that won’t come back to bite you?”

“Hamamato would have found fault with anything except total victory for his company. He’s an old blowhard, but he’s ultimately harmless.” He adjusts her robes at the shoulder. “You did well up there. Your solution was excellent.”

“You really think so?”

“Fire Lord Zuko is not the only one.” Zuko’s head attendant Ito materializes from the left. “You are a born leader. From what I overheard as the crowd was departing, they agree.”

Pride blossoms in her chest, and she can’t help but smile. “Thank you for saying so.”

“Citizen Yano remained after the proceedings. He asked me to give this to you.”

“For me?” With deference, Ito offers her an old trowel. The metal is spotted with rust and the wooden handle has been worn smooth from years of use.

“He said that he had brought it today for luck, as it has been handed down in his family for generations as the first tool they learned to use as children. To quote, ‘May the future Fire Lady use it to continue to bring beautiful things to the Fire Nation and help it to grow.’”

Tears prick at the corners of her eyes, but she contains them. “That’s very thoughtful of him. Thank you, Ito.”

He bows. “By your leave.”

Zuko and Katara exit the throne room and make their way out into the fresh air. She keeps one hand on Zuko’s proffered arm, and the other wrapped around the trowel clutched to her chest. Zuko eyes it and huffs dramatically.

“Citizens never bring _me_ gifts.”

Her smile is teasing. “Probably because they don’t like your rulings.”

He feigns offense. “I’ll have you know I make every attempt to be fair and considerate. It’s not my fault that sometimes they refuse to see reason.”

She laughs. “Well, then perhaps it’s because they think you already have everything.”

He kisses her temple. “I do, now that you’re here.” His eyes flick to the trowel again. “What are you going to do with that?”

“Use it, of course! It would dishonor Yano if I didn’t.”

“Really?” He looks skeptical, but then shrugs. “Well, if you want to plant something, talk to Bai Ling. She’s in charge of my mother’s garden. She’ll help you find a spot.”

In her shock, her voice comes out as a whisper. “Are you sure? There are other places…”

There’s no hesitation in his response. “I’m sure. She would have liked it, knowing that someone else was enjoying her garden. If she were here, I’m sure she would have offered it herself.”

She leans into him, squeezing his arm, touched by the gesture. “Thank you, Zuko.” She looks up at him. “What’s next on the agenda?”

“Meeting with the minister of finance. Looks like we’ll have to order lunch in, seeing as we missed it.”

She bites her lip. “Would it be alright if I sit this one out? I’d really like to go find Bai Ling and pick her brain.”

He smiles. “Of course. And you don’t have to ask my permission. It’s your choice how you want to spend your time; most Fire Ladies wouldn’t dream of troubling themselves with all this.”

She smiles back. “Well, I’m not planning on being an ordinary Fire Lady.”

“You couldn’t be ordinary if you tried.” He steals a quick kiss. “See you at dinner, then?”

“Can’t wait.”

With a skip in her step she breaks away and heads for the gardens, her mood bolstered after a long morning full of meetings. The trowel in her hands is more than just a sweet gift, it’s a victory – if Ito was to be believed, not only had she made an appropriate ruling, she had made a good impression. And she had done it without compromising her own principles. She would have to thank Zuko’s staff later for their reading recommendations, they had really paid off.

Though they wouldn’t be married for another month, Katara had decided the moment she came to live in the Fire Nation that she wanted to be as involved in internal affairs as possible, even if it wasn’t considered traditional. The first time she had sat in on meetings the ministers looked more than a little surprised, but she refused to be intimidated. Zuko encouraged and supported whatever level of involvement she wanted, and joked that soon enough she’d be taking over for him. Though she would never want to step on his toes, she is up to the challenge.

What she had told Zuko was true: she wasn’t planning on being an ordinary Fire Lady. Even if she wanted to, it was impossible. For all his blustering, Hamamoto had been right: she was a foreigner. Though the Fire Nation would become her home and she would love and defend it, she knew that she had a lot to prove. Five years of peace may have passed, but hearts and minds often took longer to change than laws and policies. Each smile from his ministers boosted her confidence, and each compliment from a stuffy noble was a reward for her efforts.

It would be an uphill battle, but she had faced and overcome steeper odds before. Some days were harder than others, but each night when Zuko kissed her goodnight she was reminded why it was all worth it.

For him. For her. For them.

So she had bowed politely to stiff politicians and been measured for even stiffer robes. She had learned which foods burned her tongue and how to serve tea to visiting dignitaries. She had poured over finance reports and Fire Nation history and charted her own plans for reform. Her attendants had complimented her on dedication, but the truth was she had always been a quick study.

Despite her efforts, however, she would never truly be Fire Nation.

And she wasn’t trying to be.

No matter what, she would always be a proud daughter of the Water Tribe. Nothing could change the deep love she had for her people, her culture, and her history. She could do her best to adapt to the new place she would call home, but nothing would ever change who she was. Those who looked closely enough would see the blue leather of the necklace at her throat, or the small differences in the way she wore her hair. They would hear it in her accent and in her interpretations of policy and law. And in a month, they would see it in her wedding ceremony.

Smiling to herself, she enters the gardens, searching for Bai Ling through lush rose bushes and beneath tall maples. Winding down the cobblestone path, she finally finds the woman in question bent low beside a cherry tree, pulling stray weeds and snipping fresh fire lilies for the Fire Lord’s table.

Surprisingly, she is not alone.

“Katara! I’m _so_ happy to see you!”

Before she can blink a pair of strong slender arms have wrapped tightly around her shoulders, releasing her after a brief squeeze. A young woman holds her by the shoulders, radiating cheer. Katara returns her smile.

“Ty Lee! When did you get here?”

“Late this morning. I had hoped to catch you sooner, but they told me you were sitting in on boring old meetings with Zuko.” She looks her up and down. “Considering what you’ve been doing all day, your aura looks awfully chipper.”

Katara laughs. “It’s been a good day.” She gestures to the gardens around them. “Have you been helping Bai Ling?”

Ty Lee giggles. “As if she would let me help. She’s way too picky for that. But she let me tag along while I waited for you.”

Katara tilts her head. “How did you know to wait for me here?”

She shrugs. “I didn’t. But the universe was giving me strong hints to take time to smell the flowers. And here you are!”

Suppressing an eye roll, Katara replies, “I don’t suppose the universe sees lunch in your future, by any chance? Zuko and I didn’t have time to eat.”

Ty Lee’s eyes sparkle. “Oooh, of course! I know just the place!”

Katara bids goodbye to Bai Ling with a promise to find her later, and stops by her room to drop of her gift from Yano. Together the two young women stroll down to the harbor to enjoy some fresh fish at Ty Lee’s favorite cafe. The young woman chatters excitedly about her travels, the food, the cute boys she had met – anything and everything – and Katara finds that her energy is contagious.  It wasn’t long ago that she would have felt at least a hint of trepidation when in the presence of the chi-blocking acrobat, but strangely enough, she had found that she really liked the girl. Though still an honorary Kyoshi Warrior, it only took three years before Ty Lee had answered the call to return to the circus. Between tours she would visit the capital, and in those brief visits she and Katara had become quick friends. Though it wasn’t who she would have expected and it wasn’t on a regular basis, Katara couldn’t deny that she liked having another girl around her age to talk to.

As they are finishing their meal, Ty Lee smacks her forehead with her palm. “Oh my gosh, I almost forgot to tell you! Your dresses are ready!”

“My dresses?”

“The special robes that we designed for your wedding attendants! The tailor just put the finishing touches on them two days ago, and they were supposed to be delivered today!”

Excitement fluttering in her stomach, Katara grabs her hand. “Let’s go see them!”

With giddy anticipation the two of them make their way back to the palace. Three months ago, Ty Lee had convinced Katara to let her help with some of the wedding planning. Knowing that Ty Lee was more familiar with Fire Nation custom than she, it seemed natural to take her advice.

“I confess, I’m a little nervous to show Zuko. I hope he likes them; they aren’t going to be strictly traditional.”

Ty Lee waves a dismissive hand. “If Zuko had wanted traditional, he would be marrying some Fire Nation aristocrat. He’s always been a bit of a rebel, you know.”

Katara giggles. “I can only imagine.” She frowns. “Even still…”

“Don’t worry so much. It’ll make your aura dingy.” She winks. “Besides, he knows what to expect, right?”

Katara fidgets. “I haven’t exactly told him. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“I promise he’s going to love it. You won’t be sorry you took my advice. I mean, a Fire Nation – Water Tribe wedding? How could you _not_ include purple! The symbolism will be _so_ romantic!”

“I hope you’re right…”

By the time they arrive back at the palace, Katara has just about convinced herself that she had made the right choice. After all, who know the Fire Nation better than one of its own citizens? Ty Lee would never steer her wrong, not when she knew how important this event would be. It was a great idea; who wouldn’t be moved by the nod to combining their cultures? It was brilliant, really.

But when Ty Lee unwraps the dresses from their paper shells, it is all Katara can do not to cry.

For all of her otherworldly sensitivity, Ty Lee doesn’t seem to notice the plummet in Katara’s mood as she picks up one robe by the shoulders and spins it around. “Oh, Katara! Aren’t they just beautiful! I can’t believe how well they turned out!”

Katara struggles to find her voice. “They’re… great.”

Ty Lee stops and looks at her. “What’s wrong? You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”

Hesitantly she steps closer and runs her hands along the bundle in Ty Lee’s arms. The fabric was sinfully rich, and the stitching was expert. They were truly fit for a royal wedding. Except for one thing.

“They’re beautiful, but… I wasn’t expecting that color, exactly.”

Ty Lee holds it out for inspection. “What’s wrong with the color? I think it’s lovely!”

Katara represses a groan. “They’re _pink_.”

Ty Lee hugs the robes to her chest, as though Katara has personally offended them. “They are not!” She glances down at the contrast to her own clothing. “Look, see? They aren’t the same color at all!”

She’s right, they aren’t _quite_ pink. But when she had imagined these robes in her mind, she had pictured deep purples, a combination of cobalt and carmine, not the bright, bouncy pastel that was laid out in front of her. “Okay, you’re right. But what color would you call it, then?”

Ty Lee furrows her brow. “Hmm… violet, maybe? Or light purple? No, that isn’t right… lavender?” She pouts. “I know it starts with ‘L’”!”

It hits her. “Lilac,” she mumbles.

Ty Lee squeals and hugs her. “Lilac! They’re lilac!” She pulls back and gives Katara her most hopeful expression. “And lilac is a form of purple, right?”

Katara hangs her head. “Right.” The tears she had worked so hard to contain earlier threaten to spill over. “You know, I just remembered, I’m supposed to meet Zuko for something. I’ve gotta go.” She’s already backing out the door. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

Ty Lee calls for her to wait, but Katara sprints from the room. Servants step out of her way as she races down the hallways toward the royal apartments, and she doesn’t stop until she finds her room. Shutting herself inside, she throws herself down on the bed and tries not to despair.

A little while later, there is a knock at her door. She groans and burrows deeper into her sheets, hoping that whoever it is will get the hint and go away, but it seems that some of her brother’s luck still clings to her.

Another knock. “Katara? Are you in there?”

 _Zuko_. Great. She hastily wipes at her tears and clears her throat. “I’m here. But… I’m not feeling very well. I’ll see you later, okay?”

 “What’s wrong? Do you need me to send for the physician?” His voice is muffled through the door, but she can hear the hint of urgency.

 _I’m a healer, remember?_ But instead she says, “I’ll be fine. I just want to rest.”

A pause. “Okay. Until later, then.”

Apparently Zuko and Katara have different definitions of ‘later,’ as not more than an hour has passed before there is another soft knock at her door. “Katara? I know you said you want to rest, but can I come in for just a minute?”

She could tell him to go away, but the concern in Zuko’s voice tells her that she should let him in. She didn’t want to worry him, after all. Carefully she turns in bed so that she is facing away from the door and brings the sheets up to hide her face. “Come in.”

The door cracks open slowly, and shuts again with a soft click. Behind her she can hear the whisper of silk and clinking metal as he approaches the bed. “I promise not to bother you, I just wanted to bring this.”

He sets something down on a side table, and she shuts her eyes and holds her breath as she waits for him to exit. But he doesn’t. Instead, he walks around the bed to where she is curled up on her side. She almost startles when the back of his hand makes contact with her forehead.

There’s relief in his voice. “You don’t feel feverish. That’s good.”

His fingers linger for just a moment, brushing a stray lock of hair from her cheek, and then he busies himself with tucking the sheets tighter around her. “If you’re up to it, there’s a tray on the table over there. You didn’t come to dinner so I thought you might be hungry, and Uncle always made me a special tea when I was sick. It’s probably not as good as his, but maybe it will help.”

His thoughtfulness only makes her feel worse, and she can feel her chin start to tremble. Without permission, tears start to leak out of the corners of her eyes. She prays he won’t notice.

“Okay, I’ll let you get some rest, but be sure to let someone know if you – “ At the abrupt end to his words, she knows she is caught. “What’s wrong?”

The mattress dips as he sits beside her, and before she knows it she is flinging back the bedsheets and burying her face in his shoulder.

“I’m _so_ sorry!”

Tentatively his arms come up to rub soothing circles on her back. “Sorry? For what?”

“They’re _lilac!_ ” The memory of Ty Lee spinning around with those monstrosities only makes her sob harder.

Confusion is evident in his voice. “What’s lilac?”

“The robes for my attendants!”

“I see,” he says, though from his tone it’s clear that he doesn’t. “…That’s not what you wanted, then?”

“Of course not!” She calms enough to explain. “Ty Lee had this idea that they should be purple – you know, a combination of red and blue – but they’re not anything like what I was picturing!”

He smooths his hand over her hair. “It’s okay. How bad could it be? They’re only robes.”

“How bad could it be?” She grips him tighter. “It’s a disaster! There’s going to be so many people there, and when they see those robes they’re all going to laugh! You’ve worked so hard to earn your people’s respect, and so have I, and – “

“Whoa. Slow down.”

“And it’s all going to be a big joke! I know that people already question your choice to marry me and now this will be one more reason for them to doubt us and you’ll lose favor and – “

“Stop.” Gently he pries her away from his shoulder, forcing her to look at him. “You think I care about what other people think?”

“No, but we need their support, and…” She drops her eyes, and she chokes on her words. “I don’t want it to be an embarrassment.”

“You could never be an embarrassment.” He snuggles closer to her, kisses her forehead. “But if it’s other people you’re worried about, just think of all you’ve accomplished. You’ve only been here a few months and already people have grown to love you. In fact, I think they love you more than me. I’m a little jealous, frankly.”

She can’t help but smile, even through her tears. “You would be.” Her expression falls. “But not everyone feels that way. What about when I first came here, you remember – “

“That was before.” His voice is edged with steel. “That won’t happen again. Things are different now.”

Slowly she nods, sniffling. “I know. But…” She pulls back and gives him an expression wilting with hopelessness. “ _Lilac_ , Zuko.”

He chuckles. “If you’re that unhappy about it, then we can talk to the palace tailor. There’s still a month left, maybe she can dye them.” His expression is thoughtful. “Although, maybe you should keep them the way they are. If I remember right, lilacs represent the first emotions of love.”

She gives him a skeptical look. “You’re just making that up to make me feel better, aren’t you?”

“I could be wrong, but I swear I read that somewhere.”

She narrows her eyes. “Really? When were you reading about flowers? Was that part of your princely education or something?”

His eyes drop to the side. “No. When Uncle and I were trying to get to Ba Sing Se during the war I had to spend some time in a flower shop while Uncle talked to his White Lotus friends about how to smuggle us into the city. I… might have gotten bored and read a few of the tags.”

Reaching out, she ruffles his hair. “Well. I’m glad you did. Still, I think a conversation with the tailor tomorrow is in order.” From across the room she spies the gift she received earlier that day. She smiles. “But you know what? I think I know what I’m going to plant with Yano’s trowel.”

* * *

 

The first time she knew she wanted to spend forever with him they were in his mother’s garden.

Shortly after her eighteenth birthday, Katara finds herself on a steam ship bound for the Fire Nation. By now she is more than used to the coal smoke and the steel deck; she’s made countless journeys to visit Zuko over the past two years. However, unlike previous trips, this one isn’t for pleasure.

Zuko’s most recent letter, while attempting to remain calm and detached, had nonetheless betrayed his distress. An unknown illness had descended upon the main island, and the citizens of the capital were in a panic. Though he had downplayed the details and urged her to stay away to avoid contagion, she immediately packed her bags and booked passage on the earliest ship heading north. A merchant vessel carrying textiles had been willing to offer her a small cabin and she waited anxiously as it sliced through warmer waters.

Katara is a familiar presence at the palace and no one stops her as she steps through the gate of the  towering outer walls. When she arrives Zuko is in a meeting, and she taps her foot impatiently as she waits outside. By the time the massive doors finally creak open she is pacing across the slick floors. She stops and waits for all of the grey-haired politicians to file out and then peers into the room.

Zuko remains seated at the head of a long table, the brush in his hand making quick strokes as it glides over the parchment in front of him. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighs heavily and speaks without looking up. “Ito, would you have some tea delivered here, please? The ginger.”

She clears her throat. “Ito isn’t here, but I can try to find him if you like.”

His head jerks up and his good eye goes wide. The brush in his hand drops to the table, and drops of ink splatter across his work. “Katara? What are you doing here?”

“Well, I – “

He’s already out of his chair and in a three quick strides he is in front of her, gripping her shoulders. “You shouldn’t be here. It isn’t safe.”

She shakes his hands off and glares. “That’s _exactly_ why I’m here. I want to help.” Her hands find her hips. “And it’s nice to see you, too.”

He pulls her in for a brief hug. “I’m sorry. I’m glad to see you.” He steps back and frowns. “But I’m not glad that you’re here. Didn’t you read my letter? I told you not to come.”

“And you expected me to listen to you? How long have we known each other, again?”

“Long enough that you should know I’m just as stubborn as you are. I know you want to help, but our best physicians say they are doing all they can already. I just met with them, and they assure me that the problem should be contained very soon.”

Katara jerks a thumb behind her at the door. “That was them?”

“Yes. They were briefing me on all that they know.”

She waits for him to elaborate, and when he doesn’t she prompts him. “And? What did they say?”

He gives her a long, tired look before sighing and leading her over to a stack of documents. “They suspect an infected person brought the illness with them from the colonies. This is the first time they’ve seen anything like it here in the Fire Nation.”

From beneath a stack of parchment he pulls out an illustration. “It produces a rash and high fevers, and seems to be highly contagious. Which is why you should board the next ship home. You can’t risk catching it, or spreading it to your people.”

She ignores the chastisement in his voice and stares down at the illustration of the rash, its starburst pattern looking awfully familiar.

Recognition slams into her.

And she laughs.

“What’s so funny?”

“I don’t suppose they have a name for this illness?”

“They have a long technical name for it, but among the staff they’re calling it pentapox for short.”

She laughs even harder, and he frowns. “I fail to see what’s so amusing.”

She wipes at the corner of one eye with a knuckle. “Zuko, you know pentapox isn’t real, right? We made it up during the war. Well, Sokka did, actually. The people of Omashu used the pentipus suckers to create a fake rash and then acted like they were dying in order to escape the city.”

His eyes search the ceiling. “Why does that sound familiar?”

“Probably because Mai’s parents were the governors at the time.”

“Ah.” He studies the papers again. “Well, even so, _something_ is making these people sick.”

She starts shifting through the reports. “I’ll need to borrow these to learn more about it, and I’ll need to see the patients in person. Tomorrow morning, maybe? Where are they located?”

Zuko raises his only eyebrow. “I don’t suppose you’ll let me talk you out of this, will you?” She shakes her head. “Fine. They have a makeshift tent city set up to the east just outside of the caldera to contain the spread of the sickness. They tell me they’ve seen over 200 patients in just the last week.” His expression softens. “I know I can’t stop you, but at least promise me you’ll be careful.”

She gathers the documents in her arms and steals a quick kiss. “I will. Thanks for understanding, Zuko.”

He huffs. “As if I had a choice.”

After a night of poring over the physician’s reports, she wakes early the next morning prepared to see patients. It had been her intention to walk, but at Zuko’s insistence she took a palanquin. In the end she is grateful for it, as it allows her the opportunity to review medical scrolls gifted to her by Yugoda. She hopes that the few months she spent up North after ending her relationship with Aang serve her well.

When the palanquin comes to a stop she pulls the curtains aside and steps out to survey the scene. Red tents have sprouted along the hillside, and people with grim expressions flit from one tent to the next carrying various supplies. Even from here she can hear groaning from within. Hefting her bag over one shoulder and steeling her nerves, she approaches the first person she sees: an older woman with grey at her temples carrying a stack of fresh sheets.

“Excuse me, could you please direct me to the doctor’s tent? I’m here to inquire about the illness and see if I can help.”

The woman sneers. “This is no place for children or voyeurs. We have serious business to take care of. Get back in your palanquin and be off.”

The woman spins on her heel and marches off before Katara even has the chance to retort. Attempting to soothe the sting of the woman’s words, she straightens her spine and decides she’ll just have to investigate on her own.

Weaving between the long red tents, it doesn’t take long before she finds a smaller one marked with familiar kanji. Cautiously she pulls back the door flap and finds a prim and serious man seated at a low table surrounded by old scrolls and texts.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but are you one of the doctors here?”

He scowls and adjusts the spectacles that have slid down his nose. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?”

“My name is Katara. I’m a waterbender, and I was trained in the North as a master healer. I’m here because I want to help these people.”

His gaze is long and scrutinizing, and she does her best not to squirm beneath it. Finally, he says, “We don’t need any help, least of all from you.”

Irritation boils beneath her skin. “Did you not hear me? I’m a _healer_ , trained in the North Pole.”

He sticks his nose in the air. “And _I_ am a _physician_ , trained at Roku Medical Academy, the most prestigious and discriminating school in this country or any other.”

She cocks her hip and crosses her arms. “Oh yeah? Well I’ve healed the Fire Lord himself.”

“As have I. I’ve been employed by the royal family since before the current Fire Lord was even born.”

“Well, did you heal him after he was struck down by his sister’s lightning during Sozin’s Comet? Because _I_ sure did. He’s breathing today because of _me_.”

There is a long, tense moment as they stare each other down, but in the end the corner of his mouth quirks up just a little. “Some would not thank you for that.” He rises from his chair and stalks over to her. She takes a hesitant step back and firms her stance when he gets close, but relaxes when he holds out his hand. “However, I am not one of those people.” She lets out a breath and shakes his hand. “If what you say is true, you must have some skill. Let’s see what you can do.”

As they walk to a nearby tent he briefs her on what she already knows, but she doesn’t have the heart to stop him. Before entering the tent he hands her a handkerchief from his pocket. “We aren’t sure how it is transmitted, so cover your mouth and nose with this. When you leave, be sure to bathe and launder your clothing in hot water as soon as possible.” He pauses to apply his own mask, and when he speaks his voice is muffled. “Ready?”

They enter the tent. Long rows of beds are situated against either side, and patients in them writhe and moan. Their faces are shiny with sweat and bright, oozing red sores decorate their skin. Zuko had been right; the illness they fabricated all those years ago might have been a fake, but something very real was making these people sick. With renewed determination she walks slowly down the aisle, visually inspecting them.

Next to her, the doctor continues his lecture. “With the proper medicines and bedrest, most of the patients recover. However, the number of patients is increasing exponentially by the day, and we can find no common link between them. Old, young, wealthy, poor – all walks of life seem to be afflicted. It is troubling, to say the least.”

Katara tries not to cringe as she watches a nurse peel away a patient’s bandage. “You said most of the patients recover. What happens to the others?”

The doctor shakes his head. “Sadly, some have succumbed to the high fever or accompanying dehydration. At the onset of the illness symptoms include extreme nausea, and it can be difficult to keep pace with the subsequent fluid loss.”

“I see.” Stopping in front of one of the beds, she addresses the doctor. “May I take a closer look?”

“Be my guest.”

She approaches the bedside of a young woman who can’t be much older than herself.  Her eyes seem glazed and her breathing is labored. There are bandages peppering her skin where the welts have begun to weep. “Ma’am? Can you hear me? If it’s alright, I’d like to take a look at what’s making you sick.”

The woman’s eyes slide into focus and go wide, and she edges away from Katara. Her breathing becomes shallow and quick. Katara holds out a hand. “It’s going to be okay. Just relax.”

From her hip Katara uncorks her water skin, and with a flick of her wrist she pulls out a stream of water. As soon as she does, the woman starts shrieking.

Katara startles and fumbles her water, some of it splattering against the ground while she sends the rest back to her pouch. “It’s okay! I need this to heal you! It won’t hurt, I promise!”

But the woman doesn’t hear her. Her voice reaches a fever pitch, and wide-eyed she scrambles for the edge of her cot, her weak limbs faltering beneath her. All around them the other patients begin to sound the alarm.

There is a gentle touch at her elbow. Above her, the physician says, “Perhaps we should try again later.”

Dumbstruck, Katara nods and gets to her feet, following on dazed feet as they exit the tent. When they are safely outside both remove their masks.

“What just happened in there?”

“I wouldn’t worry overmuch. The fever sometimes makes them delusional.”

“So this kind of thing has happened before?”

The physician’s eyes skip away. “I can’t say that it has, though they do become agitated and resist treatment from time to time.”

How awful, she thinks, to be so ill. Unbidden, she remembers being waylaid by fever and waiting for Aang to return with frozen frogs. Every minute of that had been torturous, and she hates leaving these people to suffer any longer than they have to. “Should I wait for them to calm down and try again in a little bit?”

The doctor puts a hand on her shoulder and leads her away from the tent. “Let’s wait until tomorrow, perhaps. Will you be available then?”

“Yes, I’ll be here. But why tomorrow? These people are sick now!”

“They are stabilized; they can wait. Perhaps if I inform the patients of your intent to return tomorrow they will be expecting you and be less reactionary.”

His explanation makes sense on the surface, but she can’t shake the feeling that she’s missing something. She’s spent enough time with politicians by now to be skeptical. “There’s something you’re not saying, isn’t there?”

He stops and sighs. “Many people in the capital have heard the tales of the Siege of the North, and even more have heard how Princess Azula was defeated at the height of her power, but they have never encountered waterbending themselves, much less heard of its healing qualities. It’s possible that your techniques frightened them.”

Her heart sinks. “Oh. Right.”

“Return tomorrow. Let’s have another try. These people can use all the help they can get.”

He starts to walk away, but she calls after him. “Wait. How come _you_ aren’t scared of me?”

He looks at her over his shoulder and smirks. “As I told you, I have been working for the royal family since before Fire Lord Zuko was born. General Iroh is a close friend of mine.”

She screws up her face in confusion. “That doesn’t really answer my ques – _Oh_. I see.” Her jaw drops and his smile broadens just a touch. “You knew who I was from the beginning, didn’t you?”

“I had my suspicions.”

“Then why did you give me such a hard time?”

“General Iroh mentioned that you were quite the spitfire. How could I resist the opportunity to see it for myself?”

She shakes her head and chuckles. “Alright, then. See you again tomorrow.”

The ride back to the palace is spent in quiet contemplation. While she was grateful to have an ally among the medical staff, the doctor was only one in a team of many. Not to mention the patients themselves. This wouldn’t be the first time she had been rejected or despised by people in the Fire Nation since the war’s end, but in the past she had always assumed it was the product of hatred, a stubborn prejudice left over from one hundred years of propaganda touting the country’s superiority. It hadn’t occurred to her that they might be afraid. The notion settles uncomfortably beneath her heart as she ponders the implications and the possibility – or probability – for change. So lost in her thoughts, she is surprised when the palanquin slows to a stop so soon. She thanks the palanquin bearers and heads inside to bathe and change her clothes. Afterward she seeks out Zuko.

She doesn’t have to search for long; when he isn’t working Zuko’s list of haunts is relatively brief. As expected, he’s taken up a seat on a bench near the turtleduck pond, tossing bits of bread into the water. When he sees her coming down the path he smiles. He rises from the bench to greet her and pulls her into a hug.

She can hear him inhale deeply as he noses her hair. “You smell great.”

“I should, I’m fresh from the bath. I couldn’t risk contaminating the palace.”

“That’s appreciated. How did it go?”

She exhales heavily and flops down onto the bench. “Not so great.”

“Oh?”

“I wasn’t able to learn very much, and… well, there might be some complications. I’ll be going back tomorrow. Hopefully it will go more smoothly.”

“Complications?”

She does her best to fake a smile. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“I’m sure.” He hands her the bread and she tears off bits for the turtleducks. “I still don’t like it, but if you’re determined to go back, I know that no one could do a better job than you.”

She leans into him. “I hope you’re right.”

She approaches the next day with renewed confidence and optimism, but it doesn’t last. This day is even worse than the last. Despite reprimands from the head physician the staff continues to treat her rudely and she can feel their eyes on her as she tries to work. _When_ she can work, that is. Even the lucid patients shy away from her, and those are the polite ones. Others do more than give her dirty looks; one even goes so far as to spit at her feet. The few who allow her to get close are clearly uncomfortable, and by the end of the day she feels both physically and emotionally exhausted. Worse yet, she still can’t figure out what is making these people sick or how to stop the illness.

Day after day it’s more of the same, and night after night she keeps a stoic façade when she meets Zuko for dinner or helps him feed the turtleducks. It’s not that she doesn’t want to tell him, she just doesn’t want to add yet another burden onto his already overloaded plate. She knows she can handle this if she just tries hard enough.

By the end of the week she is at a loss. Not knowing how else she can help she decides to take the day off to think. She elects to spend the day at the harbor, hoping to reinvigorate herself with the smell of the sea. Casually she strolls along the wooden planks that hover above the water, marveling at the ships docked there. She window shops in the seaside village and observes the diversity of people who pass her by. Vendors hawk their merchandise from carts and stalls, and her stomach growls when she smells food cooking nearby. Gravitating toward it, she sees a crowd gathered around a mobile cart featuring a display of steaming meat on sticks. At the edge of the crowd is a young man calling out their wares.

“Step on up, folks! Don’t be shy! The best grilled eel you’ve ever tasted is right here!”

It’s a Fire Nation staple she has come to enjoy on her visits, and she can’t help but be tempted. A glance at the sun tells her that it’s almost time to head back to the palace, but surely one little eel wouldn’t ruin her dinner. She digs in her pocket for spare coins.

“That’s right, folks! Get your grilled eel here! What’s that you say? You want something a little more exotic? Well, we’ve got you covered! Imported straight from the Earth Kingdom, we have a rare treat: pickled pentapus legs! These dainty delicacies will have your taste buds in an uproar!”

Before she knows it she is face to face with the barker, and she barely restrains herself from grabbing him by the lapels. “Did you say pickled _pentapus_?”

He laughs. “Ah, a young woman with discriminating tastes! Will that be one order, then?”

Frantically she shakes her head. “No. How long have you been selling that?”

He scratches his head. “It’s a new item on the menu. I’d say we got the first shipment in maybe a month or so ago. It wasn’t too popular at first, but word has gotten around and now we can barely keep ‘em in stock!”

The time frame adds up. She turns to the crowd and raises her voice. “Attention, everyone! Do _not_ eat the pentapus legs!”

The barker grabs her roughly by the shoulder. “Now see here – “

She smacks his hand away. “I don’t know for sure, but I think this could be the cause of the illness that’s been plaguing the city. Until I know for sure, you _can’t_ keep selling it.”

He crosses his arms. “And I suppose you’re going to reimburse us for the lost revenue while we wait?”

He gapes at him. “People have _died_ from this illness!”

“And I should just take your word that it’s our food that’s causing it?”

It takes all of her effort not to shout. “If you don’t want to listen to me, fine. But if I’m right you’ll be answering to the Fire Lord himself. Would you rather take your chances with him?”

The vendor pales. “Fine. But you have two days. After that, it’s back on the menu.”

“Don’t get your hopes up.”

Instead of spending her coins on an eel she uses them to rent a rickshaw and pays the operator extra to go double time. Within no time she has arrived at the tent city and she jogs around the premises until she finds the doctor.

“Katara? I thought you were taking the day off.”

Panting, she leans over and braces her hands on her knees. “It’s not an illness at all. These people have been poisoned.”

His eyes go wide. “What?”

“Food poisoning. Extremely toxic food poisoning.”

“Are you sure?”

“No. But there’s only one way to find out. Ask the patients if they ate pickled pentapus legs in the week before they got sick.”

He quickly gathers his staff to brief them on the new development and divides them up into teams to interview the patients. Katara waits with bated breath for them to return.

Sure enough, each and every one of them had tried a new ‘Earth Kingdom delicacy’ from a vendor that travelled throughout the capital. When the doctor delivers the news she is relieved. He claps a hand on her shoulder.

“You saved a lot of people, Katara. You should be proud of yourself. I will be certain to tell our patients just who discovered the root of their malady.”

She blushes. “You don’t have to do that. I’m just glad that they’ll recover. I was happy to help.”

He gives her a pointed look. “Don’t be so modest. They _need_ to know.”

Reading between the lines, she nods. “If you insist. But I doubt it will do much good.”

He sighs. “Fools cannot help but be fools, but even the most foolish among us have hearts, and those hearts can be changed.”

She grins. “Now I _know_ you’re friends with General Iroh.”

He laughs. “It has been a pleasure making your acquaintance, Master Katara. I do hope you’ll consider making your stay in the Fire Nation more permanent someday.” He winks. “The country would be better for it.”

Heat rushes to her cheeks. “I – I mean I hadn’t really thought about it, but – “

He cuts off her stammering. “Nonsense. Now back to the palace. The Fire Lord is surely waiting for you. We can handle things from here.”

Zuko isn’t just waiting for her when she returns, he is pacing the length of the dining room, an untouched meal for two left to cool on the table. His eyes snap up when her foot presses on a creaky floorboard. Whirling, he pins her with a glare.

“Where have you _been_? I’ve been out of my mind worrying about you!”

At his tone she bristles. “Gee, your highness, I’ve just been solving the mystery of an epidemic and stopping it from ravaging the health of your people. That’s all. Sorry to have _inconvenienced_ you.”

He blinks. “You figured it out?”

Petulantly, she jerks her chair out and settles into it. “That’s right. A travelling vendor has been feeding your citizens poisonous pentapus legs. Be sure to have your people find him and tell him that those are toxic and not to sell them anymore. I mean, who would think to cook them in the first place? They live in _sewers_ , for spirit’s sake.”

Zuko slumps down in his own chair across from her, his expression stunned. “I can’t believe it.”

“That they cooked filthy but adorable pentipi? Or that I actually figured it out?”

“Neither. I mean both?” He pauses for a moment to backtrack over what she had said. “Never mind. Just… wow. You’re incredible. Thank you.”

She smirks. “There’s the gratitude I was looking for. Now aren’t you glad I came?”

He rolls his eyes. “I was wrong. There, I said it. Happy?”

“Good enough for me.” She takes a bite of her rice, but she frowns as soon as it touches her tongue. “This is cold.”

“Could be because it’s been sitting there for an hour. Here.” He reaches for her plate, and places one hand beneath it. He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, and within minutes there is steam rising from her food. He places it back in front of her. “Don’t touch the plate; it’s hot.”

He repeats the process with his own food and they share companionable silence while they eat. When they finish, he dabs at the corner of his mouth with a silk napkin.

“So now that the crisis is over, does that mean we’ll get to spend some quality time together?”

Despite her ultimate victory, the events of the week catch up to her and she feels very tired all of a sudden. She worries her lip between her teeth. “Actually, I think I want to go home.”

He looks crestfallen. “Really?”

“I think I just need a break from all this.”

His look turns horrified. “All of _this_ …?”

Catching on, she waves a frantic hand in front of her. “Not us! It’s just been a really tough week, and I think I’d like to get back to my routine for a while.”

If he’s trying to hide his disappointment he’s failing miserably. “I understand. You’ve been working hard. I could tell how much pressure you felt to help those people.”

She hesitates, but in the end decides to be truthful. “It’s not just that. I’ve been fighting more than just the illness this week.”

“What do you mean?”

“The medical staff. The _patients_. They don’t like me, Zuko. Because I’m a waterbender, or because I’m Water Tribe. Worse, because I’m _me_.”

Pale fingers grip the edge of the table. “Did they say something to you? Who was it? Give me their names, and I’ll – “

“Zuko, calm down. It’s not their fault. They’re afraid. My people feel the same way about firebenders, at least the ones who don’t know any. There’s a lot of history there.”

She can see him turning her words over in his mind. Carefully, he says, “There’s a lot of history between us too, but look where we are now.”

“I know, but we’re talking about two entire cultures here. It’s going to take some time. Maybe a whole lifetime. We’re just two people.”

His brow furrows, but behind his eyes is a hint of fear. “What are you saying? I thought you said this wasn’t about us.”

She sighs and looks away. “It is and it isn’t. I guess I’m just not sure if I belong here, or if I ever could. That doesn’t mean that I don’t want to try, but… I don’t know what that means for us.”

“I see.” He drops his gaze to his lap. He’s silent for a long moment. She yearns to reach for him, but her body refuses to obey. “When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning, I guess.”

When he meets her gaze his expression is pleading. “Stay one more night. Please. For me?”

She can’t deny him, not when he’s looking at her like that. “Okay. One more night. For you.”

The next day there is a knock at her door as she is packing her things. Zuko’s head attendant, Ito, is waiting with a warm smile when she answers.

“Good afternoon, Master Katara. I have a message from the Fire Lord.”

“What kind of message?”

“No need to worry, everything is fine. However, his majesty sends his regrets, but he will not be able to join you for dinner tonight. Instead, he has instructed me to ask you to meet him in the gardens at sundown.”

She can’t hide her disappointment. “Oh. Well, he’s a busy man. I guess it can’t be helped.”

“You are too gracious, my lady. Is there anything I can get you? A book perhaps, or some tea?”

She almost says no, but she thinks of the physician and inspiration strikes. “Do you have any strategy books on pai sho? Unc – I mean General Iroh has taught me a little, but I’d love to impress him with some new moves the next time I see him.”

Ito smiles. “There are few who can defeat the General, but if you are looking for a lesson, I might be able to help. Some have said I am a decent opponent.”

“Oh, but won’t Zuko need you?”

“He has others to attend to him while he is in meetings. What do you say, are you up for a challenge?”

She smirks. “You’re on.”

Ito turns out to be more than just a decent opponent – in fact, he soundly defeats her more than once – but he’s also patient in explaining his moves and strategies. On top of that, he’s an easy conversationalist; he entertains her questions and shares some of his favorite stories from growing up in the Fire Nation and working in the palace. Before she realizes it, the sun is slanting through her window on its way to setting.

“Oh! I suppose I should get ready to meet Zuko. It’s almost that time, after last night I don’t want to be late.”

“Of course.” Ito folds the pai sho board and gathers the tiles into a drawstring bag.

She walks him to the door. “Thank you so much for the wonderful afternoon. And the pai sho tips. General Iroh won’t know what hit him.”

“You flatter me, my lady. But the pleasure was all mine, truly.”

She adjusts her robes in the mirror and fixes her hair, and she is out the door by the time the sky darkens. When she approaches the gardens she finds Zuko waiting at the entrance, robes dusting the cobblestone beneath his feet. He offers his arm and she takes it.

“Sorry I couldn’t come to dinner. Did you have a good day?”

She nods. “I spent the afternoon with Ito. He plays a mean game of pai sho.”

Zuko cocks an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“It is.” She nudges him with her linked elbow. “Don’t tell me that you’re jealous that I spent the day with another man.”

He smiles like he’s entertaining a private joke. “On the contrary. I had asked him to keep you busy. It sounds like he did a good job.”

Her good mood falters. Just when she thought she had met some genuinely welcoming people in the Fire Nation. “So he was just doing his job?”

“Not at all. I thought he’d recommend some reading or point you in the direction of some local shops. I had no idea he’d take the assignment so personally.”

She suppresses a sigh of relief. “But why did you give him that job in the first place? You know I’m perfectly capable of entertaining myself.”

That private smile plays on his lips again. “I needed to keep you out of the gardens.”

“Why?”

“Wait and see.”

Though night has descended, she can’t help but notice that up ahead the gardens have an unnatural glow. She is dying to ask, but she keeps her curiosity to herself as he leads her closer to the copse of trees that border the royal apartments.

When the turtleduck pond comes into view, Katara stops in her tracks, her breath caught in her throat. Hundreds of candles ring the area, giving it a warm, ambient glow. Near the marble bench is a blanket stretched across the grass, with a picnic basket and a bottle of fire wine arranged in the center. Attracted to the lights, fireflies wink in and out of existence, highlighting the fragrant blooms that drip from the vines and shrubs. The sight of it makes her heart squeeze.

“What’s all this?”

“It isn’t quite finished yet.” He leads her the rest of the way in and allows her to settle onto the blanket, but he doesn’t join her just yet. Instead he approaches the pond. Bending his knees slightly, he brings up his hands into a bending form. With tight precision tiny bursts of flame flick from him pointed fingers. Before her eyes the pond comes alive as the flames find the wicks of short candles balanced on lily pads. The effect is altogether spellbinding, and when Zuko joins her on the blanket he looks only the slightest bit smug.

She gives him a teasing smile. “Show off.”

“Maybe just a little. But if you’re impressed that means I’ve done a good job.”

She bumps her shoulder with his. “Maybe just a little.” She sighs and leans back on her hands. “This is beautiful, Zuko. Thank you.”

He mirrors her posture and mingles his fingers with hers as he leans back. “Do you remember when I came to the South Pole before your birthday? When we were out on the water together?”

She frowns. “The part when we were fighting, or the part when we made up?”

“Just listen. You said that when we’re together it feels like home. And I agree. Home can be a place, but what’s more important are the people around you. I learned that from travelling with Uncle, and from travelling with you all during the war. And I’ve especially learned that since being with you.” He gestures at the pond. “I know it isn’t the stars on the sea, but it’s the best I could do.”

 _Oh._ She sits forward and one hand gropes for the pendant at her throat. Her vision blurs. “It’s perfect,” she whispers.

“I know that this country isn’t always a friendly place. I’d change all of their minds if I could. I’m hoping that I will. But in the meantime, I hope you won’t give up. I know it’s not the same, but I hope that eventually you’ll come to think of this as your home too.”

She captures him in a tight hug, burying her face in the crook of his neck. “How do you do that? How did you know exactly what I needed to hear?”

She can feel his shoulders relax before he hugs her back. “I didn’t. I just knew what needed to be said.”

She pulls back and blinks away tears. “Have I told you how much I love you lately?”

One corner of his mouth turns up. “You could stand to say it more often.”

“Well I do. Thank you for this. Really.”

He touches his forehead to hers. “You deserve it. No matter what anyone says, you _do_ belong here.”

“I won’t forget it.”       

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be short. Again. *le sigh.* At this point I should know better.
> 
> I have good news and bad news. The good news is that this story is outlined and ready to rock, and since it’s a prequel there’s no mystery about how it will ultimately end. (Though we all learned from Chong the Nomad that it’s the journey that counts, right?) The bad news is that I have a monster licensing exam coming up at the end of September, and from here on out all of my spare time will be dedicated to studying for it. My apologies in advance for the delay, but never fear! I’ll return to this as soon as I’m successful. Send me your good vibes if you can spare them, they would be greatly appreciated!


	3. Doubts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thousand apologies for the delay in updating this story! Real life was determined to interfere with my fandom life and it succeeded in sucking away my muse as well. Studying for a licensing exam for six months is enough to kill anyone’s spirit! (But I passed! Hooray!) However, my muse perked up again when tumblr user themomentofdavyprentiss included this fic on a rec list. Thanks to them, my motivation returned and let me tell you, it felt so good to write for this couple again.
> 
> This chapter isn’t associated with any Zutara Week 2016 prompts; instead it is dedicated to treycain03 who made some amazing fanart for another one of my stories last year. I offered to write something for them as thanks, and they wanted something with the prompt “reunion.” I wanted to write something separate just for them, but my muse is still stuttering to life in fits and starts, and I didn’t want to make them wait any longer. So themomentofdavyprentiss and treycain03, this one’s for you!

Katara slumps in her chair, pillowing her chin on the arm she has folded over its back. Tapping her foot, she sighs heavily, disturbing the hair loopies dangling in her face.

“This was a stupid idea. I knew it wouldn’t work.”

Across from her Ty Lee gives her brightest smile, though Katara can see that it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m sure it’s just a simple mistake. I know _I’ve_ been late plenty of times, and sometimes I didn’t even have a good excuse! I just forgot!”

Katara gives her a long look. “Even _you_ wouldn’t forget something like this.”

Ty Lee bites her lip. “Well, maybe not something like _this_ … I mean, it _is_ out of the ordinary.”

Katara snorts. “Exactly.”

“Don’t worry, Katara. It will be okay. Let’s just be patient, I’m sure it won’t be much longer.”

“I don’t exactly have all the time in the world. I’m getting married in two weeks!” She hopes that saying it aloud will make it better, but it only causes her anxiety to spike. Over the past few months she has done her best to make her transition here as seamless as possible, and for the most part she thought that she was doing a good job. Praise came from multiple directions – Zuko, Ito, the staff, some council members, even citizens. It hadn’t all been smooth sailing, but she had been relatively confident about her future here.

Until a dinner party late last week, that is.

All it had taken was a snub and a rude remark from the Minister of Finance – _“proper ladies know not to say such a thing in polite society”_ \- for all of her self-doubt to come roaring back. It shouldn’t have mattered so much, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe she wasn’t cut out for this after all. Lilac wedding robes were nothing compared to this.

She covers her eyes with one hand. “I told you what happened. It was a disaster! I can’t let something like that happen again.”

 “It couldn’t have been that bad. And you’ve been through so much worse! Remember that time someone tried to spit on you?”

_You don’t know the half of it._ “Of course I do. But I thought I was past that. Mostly. Clearly there’s still people who want to spit on me – metaphorically and otherwise. I can’t give them any reason for doubt.”

“I don’t know, Katara. It just seems like such a little thing.” Ty Lee kneels down next to her, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Are you sure you’re not just getting cold feet?”

Katara glares from between her fingers. “Of course not! I love Zuko!”

“I know you do, but getting married is a big deal. And you’re marrying _Zuko_. He’s a good guy, but he does come with a lot of baggage. It’s okay to be a little nervous.”

She sighs. “I’m not nervous. I knew what I was in for when I agreed to marry him. But I want to help him carry that baggage, not add to it!” She turns and slides down in her chair, eyes rolled toward the ceiling and arms dangling at her sides. “I’m never going to be ready at this rate!”

“Certainly not if you sit like _that_.”

The familiar rasp catches both girls by surprise and their heads swivel in the direction of the entrance to the grand hall where they’ve been waiting for the past hour. With measured grace, the figure there shuts the door behind her with a soft click.

Ty Lee brightens and hops to her feet. “ _Mai_!”

As she stands by the door Katara has a brief instant to study the girl, and she is struck by just how much things have changed and how much they have stayed the same. It’s been quite some time since their paths have crossed; after Mai and Zuko broke up she didn’t bother coming to the annual reunions. If possible the woman in front of her has grown taller and more beautiful, if not more severe. Her robes fall in crisp folds along her slim build, and even in the poor light of the room her sleek hair shines. There is an air of maturity and grace about her that seems to have only sharpened over time, much like the knives Katara is certain are still secreted away up her sleeves. The bored, imperious expression on her delicate features remains the same though, and when she quirks a manicured brow Katara swallows. Everything about her bearing screams nobility, and Katara unconsciously sits a little straighter. _This_ was someone who should be Fire Lady. Someone who _could_ have been Fire Lady. The thought makes Katara squirm.

She should have listened to her gut. This wasn’t just a bad idea. It was _terrible_.

With a cartwheel and a skip Ty Lee materializes in front of the newcomer, braid bouncing as she wraps her arms around her friend’s shoulders. She pulls back and grips Mai by the arms. “It’s so good to see you! I knew you’d be here!”

“I said I would be. Why, am I late?”

Katara’s eye twitches, but she can’t afford to be ungrateful. “Only a little. Glad you could make it.”

Mai seems to ignore her, eyes trained on Ty Lee. “I made it here as soon as I could. You know how tedious travel in the capital can be.”

Ty Lee laughs. “You live across the street, silly!”

Mai just shrugs and steps into the center of the room where Katara and Ty Lee had arranged a few rows of chairs. When she is a few paces away she takes her hands out of her sleeves enough to form a traditional salute and bows stiffly.

“My Lady. How good it is to see you again.”

Katara winces at the formality. “Mai, you really don’t have to – “

“I see I have my work cut out for me.” Mai straightens and gives her a flat look. “I’ve been here two whole minutes and you’ve already failed the first test.”

Katara blanches. “What? That’s not fair, we haven’t even started yet!”

Mai just smirks, the expression reminding Katara of the girl who pinned her to a tree during the war. “Lesson one: you’re _always_ on. There’s no starting or stopping. If a lesser person bows to you, you must always act accordingly.”

Katara takes a step back. “Mai, you aren’t a lesser person –“

“But I am.” Her eyes are sharp. “And so is Ty Lee. And so is everyone else who isn’t you or Zuko. Remember that.”

Katara frowns. “That’s harsh.”

“That’s the Fire Nation.”

“But – “

Mai sighs softly. “Look, I know you didn’t grow up here, but that’s the way it is. Isn’t that why you asked me to come today? So that you could perfect all of this so you don’t make a fool of yourself in front of the whole world on your wedding day?”

_Lesson two_ , Katara thinks. _Never underestimate the shrewdness of the nobility_. Or at least this noble in particular. When Katara had penned the invitation, she is certain that she had worded her request very carefully, simply asking for help to refine her behavior for formal events and to clarify expectations. She never mentioned her wedding specifically, and she certainly didn’t betray any anxieties that she might have in that regard. She knows this because it had taken three days and multiple reminders from Ty Lee to write the invitation in the first place, and then she had agonized over it. She knew it was a lot to ask, and it wasn’t like the two of them were exactly friends. But Ty Lee claimed to be a terrible teacher – _“I was never a good student to begin with!”_ – and Iroh wouldn’t be in the capital until two days prior to the ceremony. Zuko was far too busy, and she knew that if she asked he would just tell her not to worry about it and be herself. Since she was too embarrassed to ask any of the staff she was left with only one other option.

Katara deflates. “You’re right. I’m grateful for any advice that you have.”

“Good. Then let’s get to work.”

Mai takes a seat in one of the chairs and for the next three hours she puts her critical eye – and tongue – to good use. Katara and Ty Lee role play endless scenarios – greeting dignitaries, declining invitations, making polite small talk – and all the while Mai metes out critique like the director of a stage play.

_“Back straight.”_

_“Chin higher.”_

_“No fidgeting.”_

As time passes an irrational irritation builds within Katara, one that she knows she shouldn’t feel but that she can’t seem to dismiss. She thought she had most of the nuances perfected – or at least mastered them to a reasonable degree – but even the things she felt confident about are ruthlessly scrutinized and picked apart. As Mai adjusts her posture yet again and corrects the placement of her arms, she grumbles under her breath.

“This wasn’t nearly as difficult when Toph was teaching me.”

“What was that?”

Memories of ‘Kwa Mai’ and ‘Dum’ drift to the surface of her mind, and she smiles. “During the war, we snuck into a party in the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se trying to meet the Earth King. We pretended to be nobility and Toph gave me some pointers on how to pull it off.”

Mai eyes her. “Toph was teaching you how to blend in. I’m teaching you how to stand out. Besides, you won’t just be pretending, and you won’t just be nobility. You’re royalty.”

Her smile vanishes and her arms flop limply at her side. “I’m just Katara!”

Patience – or perhaps boredom – decorates Mai’s features. “No, you aren’t. You’ll be the Fire Lady, and there’s a lot of responsibility that goes along with that.”

Katara can’t help but think that she just had this conversation with Ty Lee earlier this afternoon. She tries to reign in her petulance and replace it with reason. “I know, but isn’t this a bit much? I mean, is anyone really going to notice the placement of my elbows?”

Mai shrugs. “If you don’t think you’re up for it…”

Katara can feel her blood pressure rise. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mai takes her seat. “Nothing. Get back into position and run it again.”

Katara fumes, wondering just what she meant, but she swallows her emotions and tries to focus on doing her best. When Mai feels she is ready to move on they practice receiving gifts, and Katara graciously accepts the mimed present from Ty Lee with a smile.

“Why thank you, citizen Ty Lee. The royal family – “

“No. Too expressive. Smile less.”

This isn’t the first time she’s gotten this feedback, and for good reason – it runs directly in opposition to her nature and it’s hard to train her features into an expressionless mask. But after hours of practice and hearing it repeatedly it’s this comment that finally tries Katara’s patience. She turns away from Ty Lee and addresses Mai directly. “How am I supposed to smile less? I’m just being friendly!”

Mai rolls her eyes. “How many times do I have to explain it? It isn’t about being friendly. It’s about being in control.”

Katara knows she’s right but frustration overrides logic. “I don’t see why I can’t do both. I’m not Fire Nation; people won’t expect that of me.”

Mai stands and cuts the air in front of her with her hand; the gesture reminds her so much of Zuko it hurts. “Wrong. People will expect even _more_ of you because you _aren’t_ Fire Nation. They’ll be looking for ways to exploit you because you don’t know the rules.”

Defiance rises within her and Katara’s hands find her hips. “Not everyone is like that. Things have been changing! It was a little rocky at first, I admit that, but I think people are finally starting to warm up to me. Some people even _like_ me. A little friendliness goes a long way!” Katara raises a brow and pins the girl with a pointed look.

Mai crosses her arms. “Friendliness gets you a knife in the back. Don’t be so naïve Katara, unless you _want_ to make Zuko a widower before your first anniversary.”

Her skin goes cold. Everything – her insecurities, her irritation, the smug look on the pretty girl who knows everything Katara never will – comes flooding to the surface, and she is powerless to stop it. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Then maybe someone more _qualified_ could come and take my place.”

Mai narrows her eyes and Katara instantly wishes she could take it back. It’s a low blow and they all know it. From what Katara understands, Mai’s relationship with Zuko hadn’t ended well, and when it did it was Zuko who ended it. But that was ancient history, right? Besides, despite what happened in the past – between _all_ of them – Mai was here to help, not sabotage her. The Minister’s words echo back – _proper ladies know not to say such things in polite society_ – and she tries to keep from cringing. Still, she can’t bring herself to back down and show this girl yet another weakness.

Ty Lee’s gaze bounces between them as she chews her nails. “Come on guys, let’s just take a break. It’s been a long afternoon.”

A heartbeat passes and Katara’s hand twitches, ready to uncork her water skin if it comes to that. She certainly deserves to dodge a few shuriken. But after a long moment of tense silence Mai just shrugs.

“Been there, done that. I wouldn’t trade places with you for the world.” Katara opens her mouth to protest, but Mai’s sharp glare cuts her off. “But there are plenty of people who don’t share my opinion. Don’t get too comfortable.”

Katara flashes back to her first month at the palace. Her anger melts away and her gaze drops to her feet. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t have - ”

Mai waves a dismissive hand in her direction. “Anyway, we still haven’t gone over the wedding rehearsal details. You ready for that?”

Katara sighs. Channeling her inner Aang, she offers an olive branch to compensate for her outburst. “Actually, I think Ty Lee might be right. I could use a break. Would you care for a snack? My treat, as thanks for helping me with all of this. Anywhere you want to go.”

One corner of Mai’s mouth twitches upward. “I know just the place.”

Though Katara would have preferred that they walk to the bakery that was just three blocks from the palace, Mai insists that they take a palanquin. _(Lesson fourty-two: royalty never walks anywhere.)_ Ty Lee chatters amiably during the short ride, but her companions have little to say in response. Katara is caught up in her own thoughts and weighed down with guilt. She shouldn’t have reacted like that. Mai wasn’t the enemy; she had no reason to attack her like that. She was simply helping Katara do exactly what she had asked. On top of that, Mai most certainly had better ways to spend the afternoon than teaching her ex-boyfriend’s fiancé, and if the tables were turned Katara didn’t know if she would have even agreed to the request. When the palanquin slows to a stop and the curtain parts she is grateful to escape the cramped quarters.

Katara squints at the sign above the door as the other girls exit the palanquin. “Elite Sweets?”

Mai appears next to her. “Best fruit tarts in town aside from the royal palace. Come on.”

Katara follows behind the two, taking note of the way Mai moves through the world. Mai was the embodiment of the lessons she gave: she glides toward the entrance on light feet, back straight and head held high. Her instructions to the staff are curt and direct and her expression brokers no room for argument. It was clear she was in command and in control. Watching her, Katara can’t help but feel small.

The three girls are seated at a table in the back of the café, allowing them a modicum of privacy. Katara eyes the fancy table setting and thanks the spirits that she already has plenty of experience with Fire Nation table manners. She clears her throat and channels her most genial tone.

“What would you recommend?”

“Like I said. Fruit tarts.”

Katara tries not to take offense to her crisp response. Ty Lee scans the menu and pouts. “Oh no! They don’t have our favorite today!”

“You have a favorite?”

Ty Lee nods. “Mai and I always get the strawberry, but I don’t see it on the menu.”

Mai’s tone is bored. “I’m sure the cherry will be acceptable.”

Katara looks between them. “You two come here often?” It makes no sense at all, but Katara feels oddly left out.

“Sure! Whenever I’m in town I always stop by Mai’s and we come here to gossip. Isn’t that right, Mai?”

“ _You_ gossip.”

“Well, maybe you’d have more to talk about if you had someone special in your life!”

Mai frowns. “Relationships are tedious. I prefer more simple pleasures.” And with that she summons the server and orders three cherry tarts.

At a loss for how to bridge the gap she had created, Katara opts to stay silent lest she make things worse. She finds herself regretting everything about this day. Why had she let Ty Lee talk her into this? Committing minor social faux paus couldn’t be nearly as bad as having Zuko’s first love tear her apart for a day.

Their pastries arrive and silence descends as they all chew politely. Then, as if the universe is trying to punish her, a glob of cherry filling spills over the edge of Ty Lee’s tart and dribbles down the front of her pink shirt.

“Oops! Clumsy me! Looks like I need to take a trip to the lady’s room before this stains. Back in a flash!”

Before Katara can offer to bend it out the girl has hopped out of her chair and flitted away. Katara stares at her pastry and curses the universe – and herself - for putting her in this position. Glancing at her companion, it seems that Mai is completely unfazed; she nibbles her pastry and dabs elegantly at her mouth with a napkin. Without Ty Lee, the silence becomes oppressive and Katara searches for something to say. She opts for something polite.

“These are really good. Thanks for bringing me here. I’ll have to come here more often.”

“Why bother? You have the best ones at your disposal day and night at the palace.”

Katara wants to be irritated, but she thinks she detects the slightest hint of despondency in her voice and is immediately caught off guard. Before she can stop herself she asks, “Do you miss it?”

Mai stills, and then blinks slowly and carefully sets down her tart. “I’m going to take a wild guess and say you’re not really asking about the fruit tarts.”

Already Katara has forgotten lesson number two, and she shrinks in her chair. “I didn’t mean –“

“Let’s just get it out there in the open, shall we?” Katara holds her breath. “Do I miss certain perks of dating the Fire Lord? Sure. Would I ever want to be Fire Lady? Not in a million years. I wasn’t lying to you before.”

“I – I didn’t think you were. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“But you _did_ ask. And I didn’t answer you. Not the real question you were asking, anyway.” Mai appraises her and smirks. “We’ll make a good politician out of you yet.”

Grateful for the change in subject, Katara cautiously smiles at the praise. “You think so?”

“Only if you stop smiling so much.” Katara’s face falls, but Mai just snorts. “You aren’t as bad at this as you think.”

Katara sighs. “I thought I was doing so well, but clearly I’ve got a lot to learn. It’s just so frustrating – I’ll never be Fire Nation, and I don’t want to lose who I am, but I still want to show that I’m respectful of the traditions here so that people will be happy.”

Mai stifles a yawn, making Katara feel ridiculous, but surprisingly she responds. “That’s your first mistake. You won’t make everyone happy, and you won’t make everyone like you. So stop trying.”

Katara is skeptical. “So I should just be mean and tell people to deal with it?”

Mai rolls her eyes. “I didn’t say that. But the Fire Nation doesn’t run on kindness. It values honor and respect.”

Both her personal experiences and the countless books she has read confirm what Mai is saying, but still…

“How do I do it? How do _you_ do it?”

Mai shrugs. “If you ask me, your biggest weakness is that you’re too trusting, and way too nice. People here will walk all over you if you don’t earn their respect. You have to show them that you’re in control.”

Katara snorts. “If you think I’m too trusting now, you should have seen me during the war. Believe me, I’ve learned a few lessons there.”

Mai gives her a sidelong look. “Is this about being imprisoned with Zuko in Ba Sing Se?”

Katara practically chokes on her tart, and she has to take a sip of her tea to calm her coughing fit. “You know about that?”

“You might be surprised. Zuko told me a lot about you.”

Heat rises in her cheeks as she wonders just how much of their history he might have shared. “He talked about me?”

“I _asked_ about you. You two seemed pretty chummy after the comet, so it felt prudent to learn more. That’s another lesson for you: always know your competition.”

_“Competition?”_ she sputters.

Mai waves a hand. “I dismissed you as a threat at the time, but I wasn’t as savvy then as I am now. The truth is, he had a hard time shutting up about you. He talks too much about everything though, so it’s no surprise I didn’t see it.”

There’s at least three questions that come to mind – _Not a threat? Talks too much? Didn’t see_ what _?_ – but she can’t decide which to ask and just gapes silently.

Mai takes a delicate bite of her fruit tart. “Don’t act so surprised. He’s always liked you, though I’m pretty sure he was the last person to catch on to that fact.”

Zuko’s own words float to the surface of her mind: _for longer than I even knew and more than you could ever know_. She can’t help but smile. “He’s said something like that himself, actually.” As Mai stares at her, Katara backpedals. “Not that he liked me when you were together! Just that sometimes it takes him a while to figure out how he feels.”

“Relax, I knew what you meant.” Mai sips her tea. “That’s actually probably the thing that drove us apart. He’s got a lot of _feelings_ ” – she says the word as if it tastes foul – “and that got to be a bit much for me.”

Katara raises a brow. “You don’t do feelings? Everyone has feelings.”

“Not like that.” Mai considers her. “But you do. It won’t help you be a proper Fire Lady, but it might help with your marriage.”

Katara smiles. “I’ll probably never be ‘proper’ in the traditional sense of the word. But I’ll take that tradeoff any day.”

As she says at it dawns on her: she wasn’t going to be a traditional Fire Lady, but Zuko wasn’t a traditional Fire Lord, either. Like her, he was emotional and compassionate, and unlike his predecessors he cared about the wellbeing of all of his subjects. After a hundred years of propaganda and isolation, Zuko had an eye for inclusive policies and globalization. At this point in Fire Nation history, perhaps a step away from tradition was exactly what was needed – and that included the people in leadership. Relief and hope replace the despair she had carried all day.

“So glad this afternoon was a complete waste of my time then.” Though Mai’s voice is laced with resignation, there is a hint of teasing to her tone. Katara thinks that she might finally be understanding how to read her.

“Not true. You’ve taught me a lot. I am who I am, but I still want to be respectful of my new home and those who will come under my protection. I’ve got a lot to learn, but with practice I think I might be able to combine the strength that you project with the compassion that comes to me naturally.”

Mai frowns. “Then you haven’t really learned anything.”

Katara holds up a hand. “You’re right about being careful, and you’re right that I can be too trusting. I’ve learned that the hard way more than once, and not just with Zuko.” Before she can ask, Katara continues. “I knew it wouldn’t be easy to come here, but it’s worth it. And I’ll never stop trying. I know I can make a difference.”

Mai snorts. “You sound just like him. You two will be perfect for each other.” Her eyes shift to look past Katara’s shoulder. “Speaking of feelings…”

“I’m back!” Ty Lee reappears at the table, the stain on her shirt replaced with a massive wet spot. “Did you miss me?”

Katara eyes the front of Ty Lee’s shirt. “Here, let me help you.” With a wave of her hand, Katara pulls the excess moisture from her clothes and streams it into her empty tea cup.

Ty Lee looks down and runs a finger over the dry cloth. “Wow, thanks Katara!”

“Don’t mention it.” Picking up her napkin, Katara imitates Mai and dabs the silk against her lips. “Now, finish up your tart and let’s get back to the palace. I think I’m ready to get back to work.”

“Ready to learn how to walk in your robes without tripping and falling on your face, you mean?”

Katara gives her an intentional smile. “Exactly”

When they return to the palace Ty Lee adopts Zuko’s role as they walk through the wedding rituals. Mai is just as demanding and critical as before, but this time Katara takes it in stride. Instead of feeling hopeless, she feels confident that she’ll honor these traditions and make herself – as well as the people who love her – proud. And though she never would have guessed it, she’ll have Mai to thank.

It’s well past sundown by the time they finish, and Katara feels like her head might burst with all of the new information she’s crammed into it over the course of one short day. Still, when Mai rises to leave, Katara can’t help but remember lesson number one.

Back straight and features carefully controlled, she approaches the girl and offers an appropriately shallow bow.

“Thank you, noblewoman Mai, for your assistance. Your generosity will not be forgotten.”

Mai returns the gesture, dipping lower at the waist. “You honor me, Lady Katara.” When they straighten Katara catches the spark in the other girl’s eye. “And if it pleases your royal highness, kindly remember lesson number fifty-seven.”

Katara can’t help it, her brow furrows in confusion. “I’m not sure I remember that one.”

“Give them your best, but if that’s not enough, don’t be afraid to give them hell.”

Katara smiles and inclines her head. “I’ll be sure to remember that.” Breaking character, she catches Mai’s sleeve as she turns to exit. “And Mai?”

“Yes?”

“Maybe… maybe you’d be willing to come back sometime? You know, to refresh my lessons. I’ll supply the fruit tarts.”

Mai smirks. “You know where to find me. Don’t forget to take a palanquin.”

After bidding both girls goodnight Katara leisurely strolls through the palace halls, marveling at the architecture and the high ceilings as though seeing them for the first time. Though she had started to think of this as her home after Zuko’s candlelight picnic in the gardens, in two weeks it would be official. The journey to this point hadn’t been easy and part of her marvels that they had made it to this point at all considering all of the twists and turns and sacrifices. She’d be lying if she said there weren’t times that she wanted to give up. But what she said to Mai was true: it was worth it.

And now, more than ever, she wanted to see the one who defined home for her most of all.

With determined steps she takes a left down one hall and heads toward Zuko’s office. If she’s lucky, she’ll catch him before he retires for the evening. Though she couldn’t quite bring herself to tell him what she was up to today, she had told him not to wait up. When she sees the light under the door she feels relieved.

She knocks gently but doesn’t wait for a response, pushing the door open on quiet hinges.

“Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to – oh.”

The Fire Lord is at his desk as expected, but he doesn’t rise to greet her. Instead his head is lying on his desk, soft snores escaping from his parted lips. A brush dangles limply between his fingers, hovering precariously over whatever document he was pouring over before falling asleep. Katara smiles at the sight of him. It seems that she wasn’t the only one who worked hard that day.

Carefully she creeps to the desk with the intent of sending him to bed, when the scroll beneath his hand catches her eye. With care she unfurls the top of it and startles at the title. _Commitment Customs of the Southern Water Tribe_. Next to the scroll is a piece of parchment littered with notes in Zuko’s cribbed handwriting.

Curious, she lays a hand on his shoulder and gives him a gentle shake. “Zuko. Wake up.”

“Hmm?” His eyes blink open and he sits up with a start. “What? What’s happened?”

She hides her smile behind her sleeve, taking in the stray ink mark on his chin. “Everything’s fine. I just came to tell you it was time to go to bed, but it seems like you got a head start.”

He rubs his good eye with the back of one knuckle and lets out a long breath. “I guess you could say it’s been a long day. How was yours?”

“I had my work cut out for me too.” Pointing to the scroll, she says, “What’s all this?”

He glances down and then quickly tries to cover it up, shoving the scroll and his notes underneath other paperwork. “Nothing! Just… a little something I’m working on for the next summit meeting. Boring stuff, put me right to sleep.”

Her expression is skeptical. “Oh really. The next summit meeting will feature a discussion on Southern Water Tribe weddings?”

He groans and covers his face with one hand. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it was supposed to be a surprise.”

“You know I don’t like secrets, Zuko,” she admonishes.

“A surprise is a different kind of secret.” At her long look he sighs. “Fine. After our wedding here, I thought that you might like to have a small ceremony with your tribe. I asked your dad and brother to help me plan it. I’ve been doing research trying to learn what the rules and expectations are.”

There are so many emotions that course through her that she’s left dumbstruck. For months she’s been doing her best to assimilate to his culture while still keeping true to herself, and all the while…

She can’t help it. She laughs.

“What’s so funny?”

She leans down to hug him, squeezing his shoulders tight. “Nothing. I’m just really happy.”

He returns the gesture. “Good. Sorry to ruin the surprise, though.”

She pulls back and gives him a quick kiss. “That’s okay. I actually think it’s for the best. I needed this today.”

“You did?”

“Mmmhmm. But now I think it’s time for both of us to get to bed.”

He stands and puts his hands on his lower back, arching until they can hear a soft pop. “I think you’re right about that. Can I walk you to your room?”

“Of course.”

He douses the lights and offers his arm, leading her in the direction of her suite. “You know, I’m actually kind of glad that you found out. I’ve been reading all these scrolls, but I there’s still a few things I don’t understand, and I was thinking I’d have to ask your brother for help. Can you imagine the torture he’d put me through if I’d asked him to teach me?”

Katara smiles. “Oh, I think I can imagine.”

Oblivious, Zuko continues. “Would you be willing to help me out? I really want to make sure to get it right.”

She leans into his arm. “I’ll be happy to.”

* * *

The first time she had doubts, she was staring into the depths of her tea cup at the Jasmine Dragon.

In the four years since the war’s end, Iroh’s teashop had only grown more popular. On any given day, the shop was packed with people from all nations, as evidenced by the rainbow of patrons’ clothing. Oftentimes there was a line that extended out the door as people anticipated tasting the teas and treats that were offered. When the weather was warm, Iroh opened up the balcony patio for additional seating, allowing customers to relax as they gaze at the awe-inspiring panorama of the city that expands behind the Jasmine Dragon.

Today was one of those days. A summer breeze ruffles Katara’s hair as she lounges in one of the cushioned chairs on the patio. The afternoon has gilded the city and long shadows stretch across the streets below. The gentle, lilting sound of a sungi horn lingers in the air from inside the shop, complimenting the occasional birdsong provided by visiting sparrowkeets. As she takes a deep breath, the fragrant steam from her tea fills her senses with notes of ginseng and spice.

It is a truly peaceful setting, but it’s not nearly peaceful enough to chase away Katara’s restlessness.

A familiar voice beckons from the patio doorway. “Katara? What are you doing out here all by yourself?”

_Suki._ The years following the war had only seen the girl grow to be more beautiful and more fierce. Every six months when she would come to stay in the South Pole, Katara was always shocked to see how much she had matured. During those times Katara and the Kyoshi warrior had gotten close, and she had the chance to watch her relationship with Sokka bloom. She envies their cooperation and their surprising equality.

Katara sighs. “I’m just thinking, I guess. Nothing important.”

Suki frowns. “If it wasn’t important you’d be in there celebrating with the rest of us.” She picks up the trailing end of her robe to step over the threshold and takes a seat next to Katara in the cluster of chairs. “What’s wrong?”

Katara feels guilty for sucking her into her pity party. She tries to deflect. “I’m okay, really. I just needed some air.”

Suki looks skeptical. “I don’t even need to be Toph to tell that you’re lying. Out with it.”

She gestures emptily at the teashop. “I guess I’m just not in a celebratory mood.”

“What’s not to celebrate? It’s been four years of peace! And this is the one time of year when we’re all together.”

Katara gives her a meaningful look. “But we’re not _all_ here, are we?”

“Ah. I see.” Suki crosses her legs and leans in, balancing her elbow on one knee and propping her chin on her palm. “You’re upset because Zuko’s late?”

Katara frowns. “He’s not just late. He was supposed to be here three days ago! I got here early just so we could spend more time together, and now if he doesn’t hurry he’ll miss the reunion altogether.”

Suki reaches out and puts a hand on her knee. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

Katara studies the paving stones at the feet. “That’s just it, though. I don’t know if that will make it any better.”

“What do you mean?”

She bites her lip. “I think… I think we might need to break up.”

Suki recoils, the shock evident on her face. _“Break up?!”_

“Shh! Keep your voice down!”

“Sorry.” She peeks at the doorway. “It’s just – it’s been more than two years, I thought you two were so happy together! I mean, I know you’ve both had to make a lot of sacrifices, but… _really_?”

Katara huffs, disturbing the hair that dangles in her face. “I don’t know.” It’s the truth. She doesn’t know what she wants. And what Suki said was true, too: they had made sacrifices, but they _were_ happy. For the most part. Until recently, anyway.  

“Did something happen?”

“Yes and no.” She shifts uncomfortably. “I just – it’s been two and a half years. Two and a half years of travelling back and forth, two and a half years of spending more time apart than together. I know he’s got obligations, and so do I, but…” She spreads her hands helplessly and hangs her head. “We haven’t seen each other in three months. The last time we were together we had a fight about it.”

“Did someone say fight?” Toph appears in the doorway. “I sure hope you’re up for one, Sugar Queen. The kids at my metalbending academy are such wimps that I haven’t had a good scrap in a long time.”

Katara buries her face in her hands. “Not now, Toph.”

Toph saunters over and takes a firm stance, planting her fists on her hips and grinning widely. “Don’t tell me you’re _scared_.”

Katara gives her a pleading look before she remembers facial expressions aren’t effective on the blind. Before she can explain Aang peeks his head around the door frame.

“Toph, Iroh heard what you said and kindly asks that you keep all roughhousing out of – hey, what’s wrong, Katara?”

Katara wants to disappear. _What’s wrong is that everyone keeps intruding on my solitude,_ she thinks. All that was missing at this point was for her brother to join the impromptu gabfest, and besides Aang he’s the last person she wants to have weigh in on the subject.

Toph frowns. She cocks her head as though listening to something that no one else can hear, and then straightens. She points her finger at Aang. “Everything’s fine, Twinkletoes. Go back to your pai sho game with Iroh.”

Aang hesitates. “Are you sure? If something’s wrong, I could – “

“You’re not invited to this tea party. This is girl stuff.”

Aang’s brow knits in confusion. “What would you know about girl stuff?”

_“Out!”_ The stones at the edge of the threshold jump and smack him in the shin.

“Ow! Okay, okay!” He hops on one foot and rubs his leg. “I’ll just be in here if you need me.”

Toph waves a hand over her shoulder, dismissing him. “Yeah, yeah. See you later.” With a final frown he disappears from view.

Katara sighs. “Thanks, Toph.”

“Don’t be too quick to thank me. Now that he’s gone the real inquisition can begin.” Toph sits and props her feet on a nearby cushion and Katara cringes as her dirty heels make contact with the pale fabric. “What are you moping about?”

Suki cups a hand near her mouth and whispers, “She had a fight with Zuko.”

_“Suki!”_

“You know it’s best to just tell her the truth!”

“Damn straight. I knew I liked you, Fan Girl.” Toph pulls up one foot and rests her ankle across her knee. “A fight, huh? So _that’s_ what you were talking about.”

Irritation starts to simmer in Katara’s chest. “Yes, a fight. Between Zuko and I. In our _private_ relationship. Which is nobody’s business but ours.”

“You’d tell Suki and not me? I’m wounded.” Her tone suggests she is anything but.

Katara throws up her hands. “I didn’t want to tell anyone! I just wanted to gather my thoughts before Zuko got here so I could figure out what I’m going to say to him!”

Toph stops picking her toes and gives her an empty-eyed stare. Katara knows that she can’t see her, not with her eyes, but her gaze is piercing all the same. “You got something important to say to him?”

She crosses her arms. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

“The kind of thing that’s gonna ruin our party?”

“I – “ She stops. She hadn’t considered that. Surely there were better times, better places to have this conversation. If she could just hold off a little longer…

No. She wouldn’t have _had_ to tell him today if he had been here days ago like he promised. They could have worked something out and avoided a scene, but this was the last straw. There was no use waiting, pretending like things weren’t bothering her. She wasn’t even sure if she _could_. She’d done that with Aang and she had no intention of repeating that pattern. She had pretended not to notice the signs for far too long and it only ended in heartbreak. She shouldn’t have ignored that subtle change in the light back then, and she wasn’t going to ignore the shadows that were plaguing it now.

She sits a little straighter. “I’ll say what I need to. That’s all you need to know.”

Toph appraises her. “Hmm. That makes things a little more interesting.” Katara’s about to ask what she means but she doesn’t give her the opportunity. “Well, I hope you’ve got your speech all ready, ‘cause here comes Lord Charming himself.”

Katara and Suki’s heads whip toward the doorway, but no one appears. Instead, they hear voices from inside the shop.

_“Trust me, you don’t want to go out there. No boys allowed.”_

Katara’s ear perk up when she hears Zuko’s response, the sound of his voice making her heart ache.

_“What? Since when is that a rule?”_

_“Since Toph said so.”_

Next to Katara, Toph snickers.  

_“Is Katara out there?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Then that’s where I need to be.”_

When he steps into the doorway it’s obvious from the way her heart skips that she is nowhere near ready to say what she needs to say. He’s dressed in Earth Kingdom greens and tans, the same robes she remembers him wearing to the most recent summit here in Ba Sing Se. Memories of laughing and strolling through the streets, hand in hand, bubble to the surface of her mind, but she wills them away. He looks tired and worn, but when he spots her his expression softens and he gives her a smile which steals her breath.

She almost reconsiders. After all, since her friends are here she’s shielded from this conversation, at least for a little while until she can find her bearings –

“Hey Suki, I’d say it’s about time for some more tea, don’t you think?”

“What?” Toph delivers a quick punch to her arm. “Oh! Yes! And I could go for some snacks. Assuming Sokka hasn’t eaten them all already.”

Katara gapes at the traitors as they make a beeline for the door, bypassing Zuko and disappearing into the teashop. Zuko jerks a thumb at their retreating forms. “What was that about?”

Katara stands, her hands fidgeting in front of her. “Nothing. Just girl talk.”

His smiles. “If you say so.” He steps toward her and envelops her in his arms. For a second she can’t react, but then she closes her eyes and leans her cheek against his chest. Her arms come up around him and she can feel his sigh disturbing her hair.

“I’ve missed you.”

He feels so good that a part of her wants to drop it, to let bygones be bygones and just see this through, but the fear that she is repeating history is too strong. If she didn’t say it now it would only make it worse later on. Squeezing her eyes shut she sends a quick prayer to the spirits and takes him gently by the shoulders, pushing him back enough to create some distance.

“You wouldn’t have had to miss me if you’d shown up when you said you would.”

He drops his gaze. “I know.”

She does her best to keep a stern face. “You’re late.”

“I _know._ I can explain.”

“That can wait. First we need to talk.”

He nods, his expression becoming serious. “You’re right. We do. I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said last time we were together.”

“Me too.”

A hint of nervousness flits across his features. “You go first.”

She turns just enough to eye the landscape, sees a pair of birds soar across the city, twining in and out of each other’s paths. This is what it has been like for them, too. From the very beginning they had been part of a delicate dance, swooping and diving, circling nearer to one another only to scatter far apart. It’s been exhilarating and infuriating and maddeningly wonderful, but the truth is that deep in her heart she is tiring of the dance. She’s ready to nest or be free. With a final look at the sinking sun she gathers her courage.

“I think…” She can already feel her chin start to tremble. “I think it might be time for us to go our separate ways.”

“What?” He takes a step back and her hands fall from his shoulders. Immediately she regrets the hurt on his face, but it’s too late to take it back.

“It’s just… I’m not sure how much longer I can do this. I’ve been thinking about this a lot over that past few months, and I think this is the right thing to do.” Unable to risk looking at his face, she keeps her gaze trained on her fingers that twist together in front of her. “We’ve talked about this. Or yelled about it, I guess. All the travelling back and forth… I’m just getting tired of it.”

His voice is wooden. “You _like_ to travel.”

“Yes, I like to travel to new places and explore. This is different. You know what I mean.”

Carefully, he says, “I can’t know what you mean unless you tell me.”

She takes a deep breath. This was it. “I’m tired of missing you. I’m tired of spending so much time apart. Since there’s no solution to that I think we might want to just cut our losses before we get any deeper into this.” She cringes, knowing how callous that sounds.

“Any _deeper_? I couldn’t be in any _deeper_ if I tried.” She can picture his incredulous expression and out of the corner of her eye she can see him gesture widely. “I’m in _love_ with you, Katara. What more do you want? What more do you need?”

She thinks back to a time when the world was that simple, when she believed that love would guide the way, whether that was through a dark cave or a lonely night. But love and life have turned out to be so much more complicated than that.

“I need you, Zuko. But you aren’t there. And you can’t be. I understand, I really do, but only seeing you half of the time is like living half a life. That’s not what I want for myself, and it’s not what I want for you either.”

He’s quiet for a long moment. When he speaks, his voice is a whisper. “You can’t mean that.”

_I have to_. “Believe me, I think it’s for the best.”

“So now you get to decide what’s best for us. I see.”

The hint of steel in his voice startles her enough to meet his gaze. His brow is furrowed and he looks angry, but the unshed tears rimming his good eye give him away. On instinct she reaches for him but he steps out of her grasp.

“Zuko, try to understand – “

He straightens, pulling himself up to his full height. “I understand. I understand that I – no _we_ – aren’t worth it to you. That it’s not enough. I get it. I just don’t agree.”

Her voice rises along with her frustration. “That’s not what I said!”

“Isn’t it?”

She groans. “Aren’t you tired of this too? Don’t you want more than this?”

He matches her tone. “Of course I do! But I’m not like Aang, or Toph, or even you and Sokka. I’m chained to my country. I don’t have the luxury of making decisions that only please myself.”

She bristles. “You’re not the only one with responsibilities! How many times have I left my waterbending pupils with Master Pakku so that I could come see you? How many times have I come to visit you in the Fire Nation only to spend most of my time with servants who don’t like me just for the opportunity to have a _sliver_ of your time?”

He blinks. “Ito likes – “

Her voice is dangerously loud. “This isn’t about him!”

“Then why’d you bring it up?”

She shouting now, but she can’t help it. This entire conversation has completely derailed and it’s out of her control. “You’re missing the point! I set all of these things aside, including my pride, just to see you. I did those things by _choice_ , because I wanted to be with you. But I can’t keep this up. I’m sick of it!”

His tone softens, and she can hear the pleading in it. “Things have been changing. People will come around. You’ll see. Just give it more time.”

At the look in his eyes she starts to deflate. “That’s just it, Zuko. I don’t think I have it in me. Either we’re in this together one hundred percent or not at all. I can’t keep living in in-betweens.”

He takes a step closer. “I _am_ in this one hundred percent. I love you. I don’t know how else to say it.”

She looks away, directing her gaze over the edge of the balcony where a brilliant sunset lights up the western sky. She remembers other times she was here, and thinks that this patio will never be free from memory for her; it will reside in her mind as a place where things begin and where they end. She sighs. “I love you, too. But that’s not what this is about.”

He groans in frustration and starts to pace about the cobblestones. “Let me get this straight. You love me, and want to be with me, so you’re breaking up with me?” He comes to a stop and throws his hands in the air. “That’s… that’s crazy! Azula makes more sense than that and she’s been locked in an institution for four years!”

She tries to muster the irritation she felt earlier, but at this point she feels only empty. “Oh, so I’m crazy now?”

“No! I – “ His hand meets his forehead and slowly slides down his face. He sighs, looking deflated. “I don’t want to fight with you. You’ve made up your mind.” He takes a cautious step toward her, and when she doesn’t react he raises a hand to run his fingers through her hair. “Is this what you really want?”

_No._ “Yes.”

He holds her gaze and searches her eyes, and she can see him crumbling behind his stoic façade. He leans his forehead against hers.

“Okay.”

The defeat in his tone surprises her. “Okay?” she whispers. Already she is hating her decision, but she hates his acceptance of it even more.

He shuts his eyes. “Okay.” He leans in just a little, cradling her face with one palm as he softly presses his lips to hers. When she shuts her eyes a tear escapes and catches in his fingers.

He pulls back enough to look at her. She pleads with her eyes for him to get angry, to _react_. Isn’t he the one who never gives up without a fight? But perhaps he’s just as exhausted as she is. He skims a thumb across her cheek and leans in once more, brushing his lips across her forehead. In the next instant he withdraws and pivots, taking measured strides and disappearing into the teashop. As she watches him go she knows that she has made a terrible mistake. She sprints after him, stopping at the threshold and gripping the doorframe.

“Zuko, wait!”

But he’s already gone. Her eyes scan the shop and it appears empty. Until she looks to her left to see a crowd of people huddled by the door, trying and failing to pretend that they haven’t been listening the entire time.

Humiliation burns hot under her skin. Staring at the ceiling and trying not to cry, she speaks aloud to the room.

“Anyone know where Zuko went?”

Iroh clears his throat. “He did not say where he was going. He likely needs some time to think.”

Toph takes a casual sip of her tea. “I wouldn’t worry about it. He’ll be back.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because I know Zuko. And I always play to win.”

****

Toph is wrong, Zuko doesn’t come back. In his absence Team Avatar does their best to console her. Her brother tells her that she deserves better and offers to kick Zuko’s royal butt for her, which earns him a small smile as she thinks of all the times Zuko had pummeled him in sparring matches. But this only brings back good memories which bring on tears that Suki patiently wipes away. Toph tells her repeatedly that she’s making a big deal out of nothing, which isn’t exactly helpful but she supposes that Toph can’t really understand, not having been in a long-term relationship of her own. Aang seems distinctly uncomfortable; he keeps sending her looks that are part pity and part hopeful, and she doesn’t have the energy or the patience to sift through the meaning of his silence. Iroh does his best to lighten the mood and quietly replaces her tea with a small glass of rice wine. By the end of the night they are able to reminisce and laugh together, but it isn’t the same. Toph had been right about one thing; she had completely ruined things. And not just the party.

As they had for the past few years, they all opt to stay a few blocks away at the sizable home that Iroh had purchased shortly after Zuko and Katara had started dating. They had all teased him at the time, because why would a single man need a house with so many rooms? _For my nephew and his friends, of course,_ he had said. Then he had winked at Katara and mentioned something about future grandchildren, which made Katara blush to the roots of her hair. As her friends file off to their respective rooms she mourns for the future that Iroh had envisioned.

With quiet steps she approaches Zuko’s room. Light seeps from under the door, dimming and brightening in a rhythmic, soothing way. He must be meditating. She raises a hand to knock but thinks better of it. She has no right to disturb him. Not anymore. The thought has her backpedaling to her own room, where she shuts the door behind her with haste.

Mechanically she gets ready for bed. When she crawls under the covers the mattress is comfortable and the night is peaceful, but her mind is in chaos. She tries to convince herself that she did the right thing – they are too different, she wanted more than he was willing to give, she would have never fit in anyway – but these thoughts don’t keep her from soaking her pillow with tears. When she finally sleeps she dreams of the Spirit Oasis, of two fish circling and chasing without ever touching.

A hand on her shoulder yanks her out of her sleep, and on instinct she pulls water out of the air and forms an ice dagger in her fist, swiping it at the darkness. The intruder leaps back.

“Who’s there?”

A small fire appears, illuminating the irritation on Zuko’s face. “Who do you think?”

The ice dagger melts and she sends the water to a nearby potted plant. Rubbing the sleep from one eye she glances out the window, blearily registering that the moon is still high. Turning back to him she feels utterly confused. “It’s the middle of the night. How did you get in here?”

He quirks a brow and gestures behind him with a thumb. “The door.”

She shakes her head, hoping to break free of sleep’s cobwebs. “I mean, why are you here?”

“We need to talk.”

She eyes him suspiciously. “You mean fight.”

He frowns. “Not unless you want to. I just want to finish our discussion.”

“I thought it _was_ finished. You heard what I had to say and you accepted it. It’s over.” Her voice drops to a whisper by the end, the hurt renewed as she recalls how easy it was for him to just walk away.

“I was going to leave it at that. I wanted to respect your wishes. But there’s more to say.”

“What more could there be?”

He glances around. “There’s too many ears here. Get dressed and meet me outside.”

Before she can protest he’s gone. _Damn his Blue Spirit stealth_. A mix of emotions course through her as she hastily changes out of her sleeping clothes – curiosity, trepidation, and a little bit of stubborn hope. The last of these she tries to subdue, trying to protect her bruised heart.

When she steps out onto Iroh’s porch she finds Zuko leaning against a pillar, arms crossed and face blank as he studies the moon. As the door clicks shut behind her he turns and offers his hand.

“Come on.”

Hesitantly she takes it. His hand feels so right in hers and she hates herself for noticing. He secrets her through the quiet streets of the Upper Ring, pulling her in a familiar direction. Though she might have guessed based on the streets they turned down, she is still a little surprised by their destination when they slow to a stop.

“The Jasmine Dragon?”

He nods. “No one will bother us here.”

With his free hand he pulls a key from his pocket and lets them both inside. The teashop looks lonely at this time of night, though she knows that tomorrow it will be bustling with life when it reopens for business. For now, though, it’s as though they have come across a city abandoned by time and they are the only two people on earth.

Zuko lights a fire in one palm and leads them past the empty tables, stopping at the back door leading to the balcony. He lets go of her hand and slides the door open, gesturing for her to step outside.

If the city was beautiful at sunset, it is magnificent in the moonlight. The soft highlights of the buildings below are in sharp contrast with the inky shadows. A dome of stars stretches out above them, winking around a fat moon along the eastern horizon. Taking a deep breath, Katara does her best to mirror the quiet landscape, which exists in opposition to her pounding heart.  

She turns from the scenery to find Zuko watching her from a few paces away. His expression is unreadable but his eyes seem to blaze in the darkness. A bolt of nervousness surges through her and she laughs to herself. The sound of it is hollow and strange in the still night.

“If you came here to fight, your Uncle told Toph earlier that all roughhousing should be kept outside.”

He slowly shakes his head. “I told you. I don’t want to fight.”

“Then what? Why are we here?”

He takes a step forward. “To talk.”

It’s déjà vu. “We already talked. We’ve been over this.”

He shakes his head again. “ _You_ talked. I never got to have my say, did I?”

She thinks back and realizes that it’s true – she had gone first. Still, it can’t have mattered that much. “Didn’t you say enough?”

He finches. “I didn’t say what I wanted to say. Not even close.”

The breeze, which was warm just a few hours ago, teases across her bare skin and causes her to shiver. She hugs her arms. “Then say it.”

He moves to one of the chairs and stands behind it. “Please, sit.”

Reluctantly she acquiesces, the plush cushion sinking beneath her. He pushes the chair across from her closer, and when he sits their knees are almost touching. On impulse she tries to sit back, to create some distance, but he leans forward and catches one of her hands, holding it between both of his own. His thumb traces patterns across her knuckles. As he stares at their hands he chuckles to himself.

“I should have gone first.”

She can’t imagine what he thinks is so funny. “Oh? You think it would have ended differently?”

His smile remains. “I’d like to think so. I’d like to hope it still will. Will you listen to me?”

How can she say no? They’d come this far, she owes him that much. “Yes.”

He takes a deep breath. “I heard your concerns. Not just today. I heard them three months ago, too. And you’re right, living half a life isn’t enough. But at the time, I thought half a life was better than none at all.”

She opens her mouth to interject but he cuts her off. His hands tighten on hers. “I wasn’t ready then.” He shakes his head. “That’s not true. I’ve been ready for a long time. I thought my people weren’t ready. I thought you might not be ready for them. I don’t know if any of that is true, but I wasn’t willing to risk it just yet. It was stupid of me. After our conversation today, I realized that by not risking enough I was risking everything that really matters.”

She swallows. “What are you saying?”

He looks at her, and his eyes shine with determination. “I know our relationship hasn’t been easy. Our whole history has been complicated. And I can’t say that it won’t continue to be complicated. My people are stubborn and strong willed, and although things are changing there might still be opposition. There will always be things that are out of my control, things that I can’t protect you from no matter how much I want to.”

She frowns. “You don’t have to protect me. I can take care of myself.”

One side of his mouth edges upward. “I know. And I should have respected that. You’re not the only one who can be over-protective, you know.”

She smiles sadly. “I appreciate everything you’re saying, but I’m not scared of the challenges. If I were I wouldn’t have agreed to date you in the first place. But that isn’t the real issue. I’m not sure how this changes anything.”

“Let me finish. I said I wasn’t ready before. But I am now.”

Her blood stills as he reaches inside his tunic and her vision blurs as he places something smooth and warm in her hand. Before she can catch a glimpse of it he covers her hands with her own, concealing the object held between them. He raises their hands for a brief instant to kiss her knuckles and then lets them settle between them. She searches his face and sees him swallow hard.

“I know you’ve been unhappy, and so have I. But I want to make it right. If you’re willing, I want to share a full life with you, not the half-lives we’ve been living. Because the truth is that I’d be willing to risk everything for you.”

Her mind flashes to a bolt of lightning and a scream caught in her throat. She blinks hard and a single tear escapes and trails down her cheek. “You already have.”

“Because you’re worth it. And I hope that you think we’re worth it too.” He takes a deep breath, and she can almost hear what he’s going to say before he says it. Time slows and she wants to memorize everything about this moment: the look in his eyes, the moonlight in his hair, the way she can feel his pulse as he gives her hands a final squeeze before lifting them away.

Her fingers open to reveal the object cased within her palms. The lines of the stylized flame of the crown are as fluid as the water she bends, and even in the moonlight the gold shines as brightly as his eyes. Her throat closes and one hand comes up to cover her mouth.

He clears his throat and in his most dignified voice he says, “Master Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, it would by my greatest honor and privilege if you would be my wife. Will you marry me?”

Staring at the crown in her hand, she knows without a doubt that _this_ was what she truly wanted: a shared life, a shared purpose. Love. _Home_.

He was right. She _should_ have let him go first.

He rubs the back of his neck, eloquence replaced by nerves. “You aren’t saying anything. Is it because it’s not a necklace? Because I told you I would never want to compete with your mother’s necklace. And it _did_ make it, if that counts for anything. Well, Toph helped me with her metalbending, but I helped her shape it the way I wanted it – “

She finds her voice. “Zuko.”

“And this is why I was late. Well, the crown has been done for a while, but before I left I wanted personal approval from each of my council members, to ensure they wouldn’t cause any trouble, but a few of them were out of town and I had to wait – “

_“Zuko.”_

His rambling comes to an abrupt halt. “Yes?” he squeaks.

Looking at him now, she has never seen him so vulnerable. Not when she approached him in the caves beneath this very city, and not when he begged for acceptance at the air temple. Not even when he was weak from the injury that had left a star-shaped stain across his ribs. In many ways, she had held his heart in her hands on all of those occasions, and this is no different. She blinks away tears.

“Yes.”

“Yes?” Hope sparks and a fragile, wobbling smile graces his lips.

She leans forward and touches his face, her thumb tracing the seam of his scar. _“Yes.”_

She’s in his arms before she registers standing up, and he’s holding her so tight he must think she’ll float away if he lets go. He might be right: her head and her heart feel so light as she imagines spending her life with him that maybe she will. So she holds on just as fiercely, trying to anchor herself in this wonderful new reality. As she kisses him she can’t believe she thought she would have ever been able live without this, without _him_.

She pulls back enough to give him a teasing look. “Why didn’t you say all of this earlier? It would have saved us a lot of trouble.”

“I didn’t want you to think I was manipulating you. It didn’t feel right.” His eyes skip away sheepishly. “And with how mad you were I thought you might say no.”

“So you thought you’d have better chances by bringing me out here in the middle of the night?”

“No. I was still taking a big risk. But I knew I had to try. I couldn’t have lived with myself if I just let you go.”

She smiles. “That’s something we have in common.” She touches her forehead to his. “I love you.”

He answers her with a kiss, and she loses herself in the sound of his breath and the steady beat of her heart.

As the dawn breaks over the city she thinks that she was wrong before: this is a place only for beginnings. But this is the beginning that matters most, and with a little luck and a whole lot of love, this is the last beginning she will ever need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Another long chapter. I always envision them short, but the scenes just take me where they want to go and I just kind of go along for the ride. Plus, I’m an obsessive editor. I go through each chapter multiple times, and each time I do I tinker a little bit more. The chapters inevitably get longer, but I’d like to think they’re better for it. Anyway, we’re halfway through now, only two more chapters and an epilogue to go! Yay! Up next: the prompts “fever” and “reincarnation.”
> 
> PS – Lord Charming is a nod to one of my favorite stories from an entirely different fandom. It fit, so I just went with it. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and don’t forget to let me know what you think!


	4. Complicatons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter brought to you by the Zutara Week 2016 prompt “fever.” That’s right – Zutara Week 2016. As in, I’m still working on this story, and it’s been over a year. And I’m really, really sorry. The truth is that 2017 has been pretty awful, and not just because of #45. I’ve basically been sick all year, had surgery this summer, and will have another surgery before the end of the year. My energy has been super low, and the muse has been in hibernation as a result. I’ve wanted to write, but just couldn’t make myself pick up my laptop. But I’m determined to finish! There’s one chapter and an epilogue left. Next time I write, I swear the story will be finished before I post so that readers won’t have to wait so long. Thank you for your patience with me; your favs and reviews and follows have warmed my heart. As a reward, please enjoy this extra-extra long chapter (18k words, oh my!)

“Okay, ladies,” Toph says, rattling the tray of drinks as she sets them down roughly on the table. “Pick your poison.”

Suki reaches out and snatches a glass that is wobbling precariously. Giving it a delicate sniff, she recoils slightly. “Just what did you order, Toph?”

“The main ingredient for Phase Three.”

“Phase Three?”

Toph smirks. “Yep. Phase One: pamper Katara. Phase Two: feed Katara. And now, my personal favorite – Phase Three: embarrass Katara.”

“Wow, I can’t wait.” Katara gives Toph a flat look that she can’t see. “Let me guess – a drinking game?”

“What other games are worth playing?”

“I thought you preferred to play games where you could cheat people out of money.”

“I’ll save those for after you’re married when you have access to the royal treasury.” Toph plucks a foaming mug from the tray and reaches across the table to place it in front of Katara. “For now, Phase Three will have to do.”

Katara shares Suki’s hesitation. “I don’t know, Toph. This has been really fun – the spa, the dinner – but maybe we should call it a night. We all have final fittings tomorrow, so we need to get up early…”

Toph pins her with her sightless gaze. “Don’t be such a spoilsport, Katara. There’s still three days before your wedding. Besides, if you’re good at the game, you won’t have to worry about puking on your robes tomorrow.”

Katara pales. “Puking on my – “

Ty Lee captures her in a side hug, having already drained half of her glass. “Don’t worry, Katara! This will be fun! And Toph’s right, I think this is a game you’ll be good at!”

Katara raises a brow. “How can you be so sure?”

Ty Lee points a proud thumb at her chest. “Because I came up with it!”

“I’m not sure that makes me feel much better,” Katara grumbles, ducking out of Ty Lee’s embrace and nudging the foul-smelling drink a little farther away.

A loud cheer erupts from behind her, and Katara glances over her shoulder where two burly men are engaged in an arm-wrestling contest. It reminds her oddly of Jun. Actually, if one were to change the color scheme from Fire Nation reds and golds to Earth Kingdom greens and browns, the tavern reminds her an awful lot of the one that they visited all those years ago when they were on the verge of the end of the world and Aang was nowhere to be found. Despite herself, she smiles at the memory of the discomfort she felt being in such a place, and her reactions to the bounty hunter’s teasing – _he is not my boyfriend_! What would Jun say if she could see her now, so close to the eve of her wedding to the Fire Lord?

“Hey, Earth to Sugar Queen! You ready to play or what?”

“Oh!” She startles out of the memory and looks to the faces of the women in her wedding party, all of whom are watching her expectantly. A pang of guilt stings her; they had all worked so hard to plan a surprise bachelorette party for her (and worked even harder to convince her that she had the time to go out) that she feels bad for trying to back out now. Eying her drink, she sighs. “Mai would never approve of this.”

Toph snorts. “It’s a good thing she’s not here then.”

Ty Lee brightens. “We tried to invite her; we took a palanquin to her house and everything! But she wasn’t home.”

Suki leans in. “Have you made friends with her?”

“Well, I wouldn’t go _that_ far, but – “

“I smell a distraction.” Toph interrupts. “Come on, Sugar Queen, are you in or not? These are your last days of freedom, let’s live a little.”

Katara smirks. “You _do_ remember the last time you and I tried to have fun together, don’t you?”

Toph waves a dismissive hand. “What’s a little jail time between friends?” She snaps her fingers. “Ty Lee. The list.”

Katara looks away as Ty Lee reaches down the front of her low-cut top, digging until she produces a folded piece of parchment, which she offers to Toph. “Here you go!”

“You hold onto that. Reading isn’t really my specialty.”

Ty Lee smacks her forehead. “Whoops! Silly me!”

Toph takes a swig of her drink, thumping her chest once with a fist as she slams down her empty glass. “Alright, here are the rules. Ty Lee asked your husband-to-be a series of questions, and now she’ll ask you the same ones. If your answers match, the rest of us have to drink. If they don’t, you have to drink. If you refuse to answer a question you take a penalty and finish your drink. Easy enough, right?”

Katara rubs her chin. “So this tests how well I know Zuko?”

“You got it. Think you’re up for it?”

She should know better than to challenge Toph, but really, how hard could it be? At this point she’s known Zuko for years. She’s his best friend. If Katara couldn’t answer these questions, no one could. She holds up her glass and tries to ignore the stickiness beneath her fingers.

“You’re on.”

Four glasses clink together above the center of the table. “Excellent. Ty Lee, first question.”

“Okay, we’ll start with an easy one. Let’s see.” Her eyes scan the page in front of her. “What’s your favorite food, and what’s Zuko’s?”

Katara rolls her eyes. “Are they all going to be this easy? You may as well ask what our favorite colors are.”

“It’s a warm up question. Answer or drink.”

Katara folds her arms and looks smug. “Sea prunes for me, extra spicy fire flakes for Zuko.”

Ty Lee smiles. “Correct!”

Wiping foam from her mouth Toph says, “Sea prunes? Are those anything like ocean kumquats?”

“Sea prunes are better. Saltier, and with a little more tang. You’ll get to try some at the reception; they’re on the menu.”

Toph shudders. “I’ll pass. But fire flakes sound good. Those on the menu too?”

Katara nods. “Zuko insisted. I think adding some to the sea prunes is the only way he’ll eat them.”

Toph chuckles. “He’s smarter than I thought.”

“Hey!” Katara protests, though she can’t keep the smile from her face. “That’s my future husband you’re talking about.”

Toph shrugs. “You picked him, not me. Ty Lee, next question.”

“Let’s see… What was the first thing you said to each other?”

Suki frowns. “Wow, that seems like a hard one. I don’t know if I could remember the first thing Sokka and I said to each other. Not verbatim at least.”

“Oh, I remember,” Katara groans.

“Really?” Suki looks surprised. “But that was so long ago!”

Katara runs a finger along the rim of her glass, avoiding eye contact. “Well, it _was_ pretty memorable.”

Ty Lee leans forward, eyes shining. “Oh, this sounds juicy!”

Katara grins sheepishly. Feeding off her friend’s enthusiasm, she relents. “Okay, here it is. The first thing Zuko ever said to me personally was – “ She drops her voice and tries her best to add a dramatic rasp. “‘I’ll save you from the pirates.’”

Suki and Toph laugh while Ty Lee squeals with delight. “Oh, that sounds _so_ romantic! Like something straight out of the romance scrolls! Did he rescue you, sweep you off your feet, take you back to his ship and ravish you?”

Laughing a little herself, Katara wrinkles her nose. “It was _not_ romantic. In fact, afterward he promptly tied me to a tree.”

Suki’s eyes go wide. “Wow, that sounds – “

“It’s not what you think! He was interrogating me so that he could capture Aang.”

“Whatever you say, Katara.” Suki gives her a lewd grin.

Katara sputters. “It’s true! And you know what I said to him? ‘Go jump in the river!’”

The girls blink for a moment and then collectively burst out laughing. After a moment, Katara laughs right along with them. After they calm down Ty Lee checks her list.

“Well, drink up, because Katara is two for two! Zuko seems to have remembered that one vividly too. I wonder why…?”

Katara huffs good-naturedly. “Ugh! Next question.”

“Okay, okay. Where was your first kiss?”

She remembers the moment clearly, his fist tight in her hair, eyes squeezed tight, mouth gently pressed against hers – and the way they jumped apart when a certain someone burst through the door.

“The Earth Rumble tournament. The one a few months after I turned sixteen, the charity event to benefit the war orphans.”

“Katara is three for three!”

Toph perks up. “Now _that_ was a good fight! The showdown between The Blind Bandit and The Boulder, the rematch that was always meant to be!”

Suki turns to Toph. “I thought you were friends with The Boulder now?”

She shrugs. “I am.”

“Didn’t keep you from kicking his butt though.”

Toph gives a satisfied smile. “Nope. All’s fair when you enter the ring. Any good fighter knows that.”

Suki smiles. “Not to take away from your victory, Toph, but weren’t we talking about Katara smooching with the Fire Lord?”

Toph chuckles. “Hey, it’s only because they didn’t acknowledge my victory that I had to barge in on them.”

Katara’s eyes pop. “You _knew_?”

“Of course I knew. You didn’t come down with everyone else after the match, so I came looking for you. And what do I see on the other side of the door but Madame Fussy Britches and His Moody Majesty locking lips right there in the royal box!”

Katara is incredulous. “And your response was to kick in the door? You interrupted our first kiss!”

Toph leans back in her chair, propping her heels on the edge of the table. “Hey, I just wanted to mess with you. If I had known it was the first one I _might_ have waited another minute or two. Though really, you should be thanking me. Zuko’s heart was beating so fast I thought he might drop dead right then and there.”

Suki smirks. “Maybe you should stand guard outside the royal suite on the wedding night.”

_“Suki!”_

She lifts one shoulder and takes a nonchalant sip of her drink. “Hey, safety first.”

Katara swipes a hand in the air. “Absolutely not! For once I think we’d like _not_ to be interrupted, thank you very much.”

Ty Lee gives her a questioning look. “Does that happen often?”

Katara sighs. “You have no idea. Now drink up!”

Empty glasses are exchanged for full ones from the tray. Toph belches loudly. “You got anything less mushy on that list of yours, Ty Lee?”

“Hmm, let’s see… Oh! What’s the one thing that Zuko does that annoys you the most?”

“She has to pick just one?” Suki asks, and Toph sniggers. “What? I’ve got a solid top ten list for Sokka.”

“And yet you’ve been dating for how long now?”

She cuts her eyes to the side and smiles. “Hey, the list of pros far outweighs the cons. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t drive me crazy sometimes. Right, Katara?”

“Does Sokka drive me crazy? Absolutely.”

“You know what I meant! What does Zuko do that annoys you?”

She racks her brain. Suki was right – there were plenty of little things that got on her nerves, but what would Zuko have said?

“I would say that he snores. And that whole ‘rising with the sun’ thing.”

Ty Lee looks scandalized. “You’ve _slept_ with him?”

Katara fumbles her glass. “Not like that! We travelled together, remember? I complained all the time about how his snoring would keep me awake, and then he’d be up at dawn, harassing all of us and griping that we slept too much. Between him and Sokka, I don’t know who was more of a task master during the war.”

Toph laughs. “Remember the schedule?”

“How could I forget?” Katara smiles at the memory. “So, did I get it right?”

Ty Lee checks the list and shakes her head. “Nope! Drink up, Katara!”

“Oooh, Katara goes down in the fourth! Bottoms up, Sugar Queen!”

Katara chokes down a measure of alcohol, feeling it burn. “What was Zuko’s answer?”

“He wrote ‘brooding.’”

“Aww, I kind of like that about him.” Toph snickers and Katara shoots her a look. “Within reason, of course! He knows he has to communicate with me when something is bothering him – I’ve made that _very_ clear – but I know it’s part of his process. He needs to stew a little first and try to work it out on his own. That’s just who he is.” Her gaze turns inward. “Plus, when he pouts, he sticks out his bottom lip in this certain way, and – “

Toph pretends to gag. “Next question, Ty Lee!”

Ty Lee’s eyes gleam. “Actually, that goes really well with the next one! What do you find most attractive about Zuko?”

Toph groans.

Katara squirms a little and raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t that self-explanatory? I mean, you’ve all seen him.”

“ _I_ haven’t seen him. You’ll have to be a little more specific.”

Suki waves her glass in the air and hiccups. “Yeah, Katara. Plus, we don’t all have the same taste.”

“True. _You’re_ attracted to my brother.” Katara glances between Suki and Ty Lee. “Both of you, actually. What was that about not having the same taste?”

“Enough stalling!” Katara doubletakes at Toph’s flush – it had to be the alcohol, right? “Despite my aversion to hearing you gush about Prince Poutypants, the sooner you answer the sooner we can move on to the next question.”

Katara sinks down into her chair and covers her face with her hands. “This is so embarrassing!”

Suki’s voice is matter-of-fact. “Hey, if you don’t want to answer, you can just drink instead.”

“Fine,” she laments. She sits up and fidgets with her glass, determined not to make eye contact. “Well, he’s tall, and he’s got these broad shoulders and long legs…” Her mind flashes to earlier that morning, stopping by the sparring pitch to bid Zuko goodbye before going out with her friends, the way his muscles tensed as he moved and how the sweat from his efforts made his skin shine. More to herself, she says, “And when he bends, he’s just so… so _powerful_ … and then there are those gold eyes, _spirits_ those eyes…” A chair loudly scraping the floor from the table to their left snatches her out of her fantasy. Glancing at her audience, she sees Suki and Ty Lee looking at her dreamily while Toph picks at her toes.

Instantly embarrassed, Katara hunches her shoulders. “What?”

Suki just smiles gently and shakes her head. “You’ve got it _so_ bad.”

Katara blushes. “Well, I should hope so. We _are_ getting married in three days. So, did I get it right?”

“Hmm. Well, first he wrote ‘nothing’ and then scratched it out.”

Suki clicks her tongue. “We gotta work on that boy’s self-esteem.”

Ty Lee squints at the list. “But then he wrote ‘tall’ with a question mark.”

Katara feels triumphant. “Hey, I said tall!”

Toph blows her bangs out of her face. “Yeah, that and a million other things.”

Katara’s hand finds her hip. “Still counts!”

Ty Lee leans over and puts her head on Toph’s shoulder, hugging her arm. “Aww, let’s give it to her. Just this once.”

Shrugging her off, Toph swings her feet back onto the floor. “Alright, alright. Drink up ladies!”

Ty Lee empties her glass and waves over the bartender to order another round. Katara hasn’t even finished her first when Ty Lee reaches for her third. “This is so much fun! Okay, next question!”

Katara eyes the full tray of drinks that are delivered to the table. “How many questions _are_ there?”

Toph snatches a full glass. “It wouldn’t be much of a drinking game if there wasn’t plenty of opportunities to drink, now would it?”

Katara fiddles with the handle of her mug. “Still, don’t you think we should call it a night soon?”

“No way. No chickening out now just because the questions are getting harder!”

Ty Lee lightly smacks Toph’s shoulder. “Stop heckling her, Toph! Katara is doing great!”

Katara sighs. “Alright, fine. Let’s hear the next one.”

Slurring her words only slightly, Ty Lee squints at the list. “What does Zuko find most attractive about you?”

Toph runs a hand over her face. “Who wrote these questions anyway?”

Ty Lee looks hurt. “I did.”

“That explains it.”

Meanwhile, Katara considers her answer. What would Zuko say? He’d paid her no shortage of compliments over the years. Was there something that he seemed to remark on more than others? And of those things, which could she say out loud and not have Toph tease him mercilessly? Opting to spare him some grief, Katara searches for something benign.

“…Well, he’s said that he loves my hair. And my eyes, he really likes those too. Oh! And he kisses the tip of my nose a lot, he says that it’s cute.”

Toph snorts. “That’s it? What, can he only see you from the neck up or something?”

Katara can feel her face heating. “No! I just – “ But her friends aren’t listening, as they are doubled over with laughter. She sinks back into her chair and crosses her arms. “Forget it. That’s my answer and I’m sticking to it.”

“Sorry, Katara,” Ty Lee says, trying to stifle her giggles. “Looks like another drink for you!”

Katara braces herself. What if he wrote –

“He said that the thing he finds most attractive about you is your compassion.”

The rest of the group groans and Katara makes a face. “What? That’s not fair! I thought it had to be a physical attribute!”

Suki puts a finger in the air. “The question doesn’t specify a physical attribute. Fair’s fair.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbles. She chokes down the remainder of her mug, and Suki pushes a full one in front of her to replace the empty glass.

“Ready for the next one?”

Katara gives Ty Lee a pointed look as the alcohol blooms warm in her gut. “I thought you guys said I would be good at this.”

Ty Lee smiles. “You are! Maybe this one will be easier for you. What’s your favorite thing to do together?”

A few different memories bubble to the surface of her mind, the kind that involve stolen breath and tingling skin. Before she can push the thoughts away, she can feel her face flush.

Ty Lee squeals. “He had the same response! He went as red as his robes!”

“Maybe I _should_ chaperone your wedding night!” Toph quips.

Suki sighs dreamily. “You guys are going to have so many kids…”

“You guys are such… such _perverts_!”

Ty Lee nudges her with an elbow. “You’re the one blushing.”

Katara looks pointedly at the ceiling and huffs. “Look, we do _plenty_ of things together that are fun.”

Toph snickers and takes a swig of her drink. “Like making out at Earth Rumbles, you mean.”

“Among other things!”

“Oh yeah, like what? Remember, there’s a drink on the line. Get it wrong and you’re one step closer to having to scrub puke stains out of your robes.”

 _Ugh_. Toph wasn’t kidding when she said that Phase Three would be embarrassing. But what would Zuko say? Try as she might, she finds that she can’t get those images out of her head and she’s drawing a blank. She blames the liquor.

Suki weighs in. “Well, they bicker so much that you’d think _that_ was their favorite thing.”

“We do not!” Her protest is met with skeptical looks from her friends. “Okay, maybe we do, but we’re both very opinionated so that’s bound to happen.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal, most of the time it ends with us laughing or –“ she thinks of the incident with the seating chart and she blushes. Her friends were right in more ways than one. But _before_ they had ended up rolling around on the ground… “Sparring! We spar on a regular basis, and that’s always a lot of fun. We try to make time for it even when our schedules get busy.”

“Score one for Katara!”

She blinks. “I was right?”

“Yep.” Ty Lee swallows half her glass. “Good job!”

Suki props her chin on her fist. “Though I suppose ‘sparring’ could be open to interpretation.”

Katara throws up her hands. “You all are impossible!” Though, her mind whispers, Zuko did mention that they made both good opponents _and_ good teammates… To shut up her brain she grabs her mug and takes a swig.

“Speaking of kids, how many do you want?”

She snorts into her glass, sending foam flying up onto her nose. “What?”

“That’s the next question.”

Wiping her face, she says, “Well, we haven’t really discussed it much. We’ll need to have at least one, but I’d really like two or three. I think it’s nice for kids to have siblings.”

Suki quirks a brow. “Zuko might disagree with you there.”

Ty Lee gestures with her glass, sloshing liquor onto the table. “Just make sure you don’t make them all dress the same.”

“And don’t coddle them too much, whether you have one or ten.” Toph proclaims. “You gotta let them have some freedom or they’ll end up rebelling against the crown.”

Katara gives a sly smile. “You would know, wouldn’t you?”

“Damn straight.”

Suki considers this. “Zuko certainly wasn’t coddled, and he still rebelled.”

Katara frowns. “I think we’ll be able to strike a balance between coddling and outright horrific abuse. Spirits, just what kind of parents do you think we’ll be?”

The women in her wedding party look at one another and then nod. Suki speaks for the group. “Coddlers, for sure.”

Katara is skeptical. “Zuko too?”

“Oh yeah,” Toph groans. “He’ll be even worse. If the way he looks at you is any indication, he’ll have nothing but goo-goo eyes for his broody brood.”

Katara give a soft smile as she pictures it. “I think we might actually agree on that.”

Suki looks at Ty Lee. “So, what did Zuko say?”

“He wrote ‘as many as Katara wants.’” Ty Lee makes a face. “How do we judge that?”

Katara gives a triumphant smile. “Hey, if he says it’s up to me, then any answer I give is the right one.”

Suki interjects. “Or it means that there is _no_ right answer. Zuko kind of screwed you on that one.”

“Well, maybe that’s what he would _like_ – “

Katara contains her laughter as she points at Ty Lee. “Not another word!”

“I think it’s a wash,” Toph declares. “We all drink.”

“But-!”

“We already gave you a pass, so drink up.”

They collectively chug their drinks, and Katara coughs. She blinks as her vision blurs a little. “Please tell me there are some questions on the list that don’t focus on my sex life.”

Ty Lee pretends to pout. “Oh, very well. We’ll save those for when you’ve had more to drink.” She winks before scanning the list. “Here’s one. What’s the last big thing that you fought about?”

Katara stills, all traces of humor vanishing. Though she and Zuko did bicker quite a bit, it had been some time since their last real argument – not since a few weeks after she had moved to the Fire Nation. And she hadn’t shared the story behind that fight with anyone.

She shifts uncomfortably in her chair. “I don’t suppose we can go back to the dirty questions, can we?”

Suki teases her in a sing-song voice. “Not unless you want to drink first.”

“Fine.” She downs the rest of her glass. When she wipes her mouth, Suki is giving her a concerned look and Toph has gone oddly quiet. She tries to ignore it and plasters a false smile on her face. “Okay, next question.”

Ty Lee turns her attention to the list to find the next question, but Toph speaks up. “Wait, what did Zuko say?”

“That’s really not important, let’s just – “

“He said ‘tax reform.’” Ty Lee scrunches up her face. “You got into a heated argument about taxes?”

Katara laughs weakly and silently thanks Zuko for the lie. “Well, it’s like you said, we fight about everything.”

“Right…”

The game goes on, but it takes a few more drinks before she forgets about the real answer to that question.

* * *

 

The first time she realized this might be more complicated than either of them imagined, she was in her room in the Fire Nation palace, vomiting into a priceless urn.

The hulking steel ship passes through the Great Gates of Azulon and Katara, standing on the deck, grips the railing a little tighter. There’s no threat from the massive statue today, nor has there been in the dozens of times she has sailed into this bay since the war’s end, but as its shadow briefly blots out the sun she can almost feel it as its meaning shifts in her mind’s eye yet again. Years ago, it had been an obstacle to overcome as she had approached these lands as an invader. Later she came to think of it as a sentinel, protecting a nation and the leader that slept in the hollow of the dormant volcano. Back then she was just a visitor, granted passage under Azulon’s stern gaze only after meeting his approval. This time, however, she isn’t arriving as an invader or a visitor; she is coming to stay. As a _ruler_. These gates would be protecting her along with the rest of the Fire Nation citizens in residence in the caldera.

A nervous laugh escapes her lips at the irony. She looks into the hard stare of Azulon’s granite visage and thinks he must be raging from the afterlife at this outsider who sails so quietly into the bay to take her place on the throne and in the pages of history.  
She disembarks with the rest of the crowd, and a palanquin is waiting for her as expected. A small team of people bow in unison as she approaches.

“Lady Katara, it is our pleasure to welcome you home.”

 _Home_. A little wave of dizziness passes over her at the word. This is _home_ now. She returns the bow to cover her nerves. “Thank you. It’s my honor to be here.”

The team straightens and a tall, austere woman with gray streaks at her temples steps forward. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Hideko, and this is Fumiko and Machiko. We are at your disposal.”

Katara smiles. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Hideko gestures to the lavish palanquin behind her. “If it pleases you, your palanquin is ready to take you to the palace. The staff will tend to your luggage. It will be delivered later this afternoon.”

Katara glances back to see some of the heavy trunks already being offloaded from below deck. “There’s quite a bit of luggage, I’m afraid. I would be happy to help.” At the horrified looks on the faces of the women in front of her she knows she has made some kind of faux pas and stops short. “I mean, that would be wonderful.”

Hideko nods stiffly. “Very good. Tea and a light meal await you at the palace to refresh you from your journey.” Fumiko and Machiko take up positions next to the palanquin and part the curtains with bowed heads. “Shall we be on our way, my lady?”

Avoiding the looks of curious dockworkers, she ducks inside and settles on the plush cushions. This wouldn’t be the first time she had been in a royal palanquin, but again, the experience takes on new meaning. This wasn’t just on loan from the palace to ferry her as a guest. This was _hers_ now. Or would be soon. It would still be six months before she and Zuko were married, but for all intents and purposes, this was her life now. Her heart beats a little faster as she feels the palanquin lift and begin to move.

She resists the urge to peek out of the curtains along the way, certain that this might break some sort of protocol. Instead, she does her best to enjoy the journey, trying to keep her excitement and her nerves in check. As they travel she can hear the ambient sounds of the town as they pass beyond the gates at the base of the volcano, and again when they enter the capitol. The journey seems to take longer than usual, but eventually they slow to a stop and the curtains are opened to reveal the entrance to the palace.

Hideko appears and addresses her with lowered eyes. “Lady Katara, Fumiko will accompany you to the Fire Lord’s office, where his majesty has requested to meet with you.”

She almost slips up again – _no need, I know the way_ – and instead nods her head with as much dignity as she can muster and follows the wispy girl who sets a crisp pace. Katara almost asks for her to slow down so that she can bask in the moment a little, but she doesn’t want Fumiko to be accused of keeping the Fire Lord waiting.

Bright sunlight is replaced by burning braziers as they enter the grand halls. They pass the open doors of the empty throne room, where shadows dance across the polished floors in the light of the torches. She hadn’t considered it until now, but as she gazes at the rows of tall columns she thinks that her entire village could fit into that room, tents and all. That pesky wave of dizziness washes over her again, and if Fumiko didn’t seem so intent on fulfilling her duties she might have asked to sit down for a moment.

Left, right, left twice more, past the hall of portraits and right again to the staircase for the eastern tower. She’s thankful that she already knows the way and doesn’t feel as though she needs to memorize the path on top of everything else. She isn’t sure there’s room in her head with all of the other racing thoughts crowded in there. It’s a relief when they find the right floor and turn down a wide hallway.

The guards posted outside the Fire Lord’s office pay them no mind as Fumiko approaches the door. She knocks gently, and to Katara’s amusement, she bows as she speaks despite the fact that Zuko is on the other side of the door.

“My lord, Lady Katara has arrived safely from her journey and is here to see you, as requested.”

“Send her in.”

Fumiko opens the door and steps aside, ushering Katara through the doorway. Katara is greeted by an impressive desk covered in stacks of parchment and scrolls – but the chair behind it is empty. Confused, she takes a step forward as the door slides shut behind her.

“Zuko? Did you get buried in all that paperwork? I told you that you need to organize it better or it will swallow you whole – “

Without warning strong arms ambush her from the left, and she squeaks as she is lifted off the ground and spun around. Her feet catch the top of a stack of papers, which flutter to the floor unnoticed as a warm and familiar mouth covers hers. He allows her feet to return to the carpet, but he has a harder time relinquishing her lips. She has to push gently at his chest so that she can catch her breath.

With a grin, she says, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were happy to see me.”

He holds her by the shoulders, searching her face, an impossibly wide and almost disbelieving smile stretched across his face. “You’re here. You’re really here.”

She tries to downplay it, if only to calm the racing of her own heart. “I’ve been here plenty of times before, you know. Just a month ago, in fact! You act like you haven’t seen me in ages.”

“Well, I thought I should make the most of it. It’s the last time we’ll have to be apart for so long.”

A feeling of unreality settles over her. “That’s true, isn’t it?”

He nods. “No more long goodbyes, so no more big greetings.”

For a moment her nerves recede and her throat threatens to close up. She blinks rapidly and steals a kiss. “Taking me for granted already?”

He squeezes her shoulders and kisses the tip of her nose. “Never. I’ll find plenty of other reasons to show my appreciation.”

“I’m holding you to that, your majesty.”

“You have my word of honor.”

Teasing his collar between her fingers, she says, “You know, there will still be opportunities to greet me in style. Or do you not intend for me to visit my family or go on diplomatic missions?”

He rolls his eyes. “Of course. You’ll travel, and so will I. Hopefully most of the time we’ll travel together. But it will be different. You won’t be _going_ home, you’ll be _returning_ home instead.”

She hugs him. There was that word again: _home_. Here. With him. To keep from swaying she tightens her arms around him, and when she lays her head on his chest she can feel the quick and steady thump of his heart. “We’re really doing this, aren’t we?”

“Yes. We really are.” His fingers comb through her hair. “How do you feel?”

“Excited. Overwhelmed. But mostly happy.”

“I concur.”

Her stomach growls and she pulls back with a smile. “Hideko said something about tea and snacks, but I’m not seeing any.”

“I thought you might like to eat in the gardens after being cooped up on the ship. After that I’ll show you to your suite.”

“My _suite_? What about my room in the guest wing?”

Zuko smiles and shakes his head. “Katara, the guest wing is for guests. You aren’t a guest anymore. As the future Fire Lady, you are entitled to the use of the royal suites as well as your own staff to attend you.”

“My own staff?”

Zuko nods. “The three women who met you at the docks are your personal attendants. Hideko is in charge. They’ll provide you with anything you ask. They’ll keep track of your schedule, help you with grooming and wardrobe, run for midnight snacks, or whatever else you need.”

Her head swims a little at the enormity of it. “Okay, I think I might need to sit down now.”

“Are you okay?”

He leads her to a stiff chaise along one wall and they take a seat. She feels silly; it’s not as if she hasn’t been granted the same treatment when travelling to meet with various officials in different corners of the globe, and she’s more than familiar with the finery that defines Zuko’s life at the palace. But now it is real, and now it is hers, and it’s all a little much. She’s just Katara, after all, a girl from a humble village in the south pole. She takes a deep breath. “I really don’t need all that, Zuko. I’m sure you could find better jobs for those ladies to do.”

He reaches over and squeezes her hand. “It’s a luxury, yes, but it’s also a necessity. You’ll be grateful for them, believe me. My life would fall apart if it weren’t for Ito.” He pauses and glances at the ceiling. “Well, him and fifteen others.”

She startles. _“Fifteen?_ You have fifteen people who attend you?” He shrugs sheepishly. She pokes him in the shoulder playfully. “Wait, why do you get fifteen while I only get three?”

He laughs. “Spoken like a true Fire Lady. Three is just to help you get settled. We’ll hire more staff for you once we see what you need.” He offers his hand. “But we can talk about that more later. You ready for that snack now?”

She takes his hand, thinking that she could use the fresh air. _Staff. A suite_. She tries to wrap her mind around it all. “Let’s go.”

They exit the palace proper and find the cobblestone path that leads through the gardens. Along the way they see a woman crouched along the edge, carefully pruning the flower beds.

“Good afternoon, Bai Ling.”

The woman looks over her shoulder and startles. She fumbles into a clumsy kowtow, shears still gripped in one fist. “Good afternoon, my lord.”

Zuko gestures for her to rise. Katara itches to reach out and pluck a stray twig from her hair. “Bai Ling, this is Lady Katara. She’s come to stay at the palace, so I imagine you’ll see her walking these paths more frequently from now on.” He gives Katara a fond look and gestures to the woman. “Katara, this is Bai Ling, our head gardener. She is responsible for all of the beauty you see around you, especially in my mother’s gardens.”

Bai Ling smiles, her eyes firmly fixed on the cobblestone. “You flatter me, my lord. Welcome home, my lady. The turtleducks will be pleased that you are here to stay.”

Zuko’s brow rises in curiosity. “Have you met before?”

“Not formally, my lord, but Lady Katara has frequented the gardens over the years. It would be impossible not to notice her.”

He nods. “Indeed. Keep up the good work, Bai Ling.” He eyes the lilies she had been tending. “And please have some of those sent to Lady Katara’s suite later this afternoon.”

Bai Ling gives a satisfied smile. “It’s already been done, my lord.”

“Very good.” To Katara, he says, “Shall we?”

They enter the area Katara knows as his mother’s garden – branches of cherry trees hang low, blossoms kissing the surface of the pond where the turtleducks swim in lazy circles. They cross to the shade of a tree where a blanket has been laid out with a tea pot and a basket. Zuko busies himself with unpacking the basket, taking out tea cups and a plate of sweet tarts and fruit slices. With the palm of his hand he applies heat to the bottom of the tea pot until steam rises from the spout. He shakes some tea leaves into the water to allow it to brew.

Katara pops a mango slice into her mouth and chews slowly, relishing the taste. She might not be a big fan of the spicy cuisine of Zuko’s homeland, but the Fire Nation had the best fruit, hands down. A gentle breeze rustles the branches of the cherry trees, sending a cascade of petals to settle gently on the surface of the pond. On the wind, she can detect the scent of the ocean, and she breaths deeply, feeling herself relax.

“You know, a girl could really get used to this.”

He pours her a cup of tea. “I certainly hope so. I intend to keep you.”

She gives him a soft smile. “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.” She takes in the lush grounds, marveling at the architecture. Though separated from the palace proper, she’s always been curious about the buildings that connect to the main structure through a maze of covered pathways. Gesturing to the large pavilion connected to the garden, she asks, “What are all of these for, Zuko? Does the staff stay here?”

For an instant he stops chewing his tart. He swallows hard and takes a measured sip of tea before answering. “No, the staff stay in a wing of the palace so that they are available for service. These are for extended members of the royal family. Those who are further down in the line of succession.” He pauses and glances at the building she had singled out. “I grew up there.”

It clicks in her mind, and she feels stupid for not realizing it before – there was a reason he referred to this place as his _mother’s_ garden. It’s easy to forget sometimes that while he was born into this life, he wasn’t originally intended for this role. Until the age of ten he was four steps removed from the throne – his grandfather, his uncle, his cousin, and his father all came before him. Then his life changed overnight. Suddenly he was Prince Zuko. And only seven years later he was Fire Lord Zuko. She thinks of all of the immense changes to which he had to adjust, and the various roles that he has played, and it helps put her own situation in perspective. If he could do it, so could she.

Curious about his childhood home but not wanting to intrude, she reaches over and covers his hand with her own. “Will you show me sometime?”

He tilts his head. “You want to see it?”

“Of course. I’d love to see where you grew up. It’s only fair, you’ve seen my village, after all.”

He smirks. “And the polar leopard caves. Let’s not forget those.”

“You’ll never let me forget, I’m sure.”

“Never.” His eyes focus somewhere over her shoulder. “Today’s a good day. Can we save the tour of the grounds for another time?”

“Of course.” To ease his obvious discomfort, she adds, “Whenever you want. We’ve got the rest of our lives, after all.”

His eyes find hers, bright and hopeful. “Starting today.” He blinks a few times and looks away, clearing his throat. “When you finish your snack, I’ll show you your suite. Your things are probably waiting for you by now.”

She nods. Despite her excitement to settle in, she takes her time to relish this quiet time in the garden with him. What was the rush? What she said was true – they had the rest of their lives. And the rest of their lives would doubtless be filled to the brim with full schedules and responsibilities. Though her stomach tingles with anticipation, she samples the food provided until her hunger is satisfied and drains her tea cup. Before leaving the garden she insists on playing with the turtleducks; she learns that they aren’t fond of fruit but seem to love the crust from the extra tarts.

When she is ready she takes his arm and together they make their way back to the palace. Along the way they pass a variety of staff members scurrying from place to place, their arms laden with linens or tools or trays.

Eyeing a young man with an armful of scrolls, she says, “There sure are a lot of people who work here.”

Zuko nods absentmindedly. “The palace is a small community all to itself.”

“…It seems like a lot of work for just one resident.”

“Well – two now.” He leans over and places a quick kiss to her temple. “The palace requires a lot of hands to keep it running – housekeepers, cooks, gardeners, repairmen, tailors, two librarians – the list is long. And then there are those who specifically take care of me – and now you.”

“Your fifteen?”

“Yes, my fifteen.”

“Still, it’s a lot for just one family.”

“We might be the only royals in residence, but we aren’t actually the only ones who live here. Many of the staff live on the grounds with their families. In addition to the people who live here, we hold a variety of meetings here. There’s rarely a time when at least one of the guest rooms isn’t occupied, since we host visiting dignitaries or ambassadors. My ministers also each have an office in the south wing, and sometimes they work through the night. We are far from alone here.”

“Wow. I didn’t realize.” It was going to take a lot of effort to learn the names and faces of the people in Zuko’s ‘community.’ Passing by a guard posted near the empty throne room, she notes his lack of visible weapons – a member of the Imperial Firebenders, no doubt. “And the guards, too.”

“Yes, there are a few hundred of them on duty inside the palace walls at all times. They work in shifts; those who are not on duty live beneath the eastern tower, where they can be ready to defend the palace at a moment’s notice.”

“That’s a lot of people.” _And a lot of firepower_ , she thinks. Suddenly the guards they pass take on an ominous quality. “Is it safe?”

Zuko frowns as they approach the wide, sweeping staircase of the eastern tower. She knows these halls – she was just here; Zuko’s office is housed on the third floor. “You think we could use more security?”

Climbing the stairs, she keeps one hand on the sleek bannister. “No, I mean don’t you worry about those _within_ the palace? It must be hard to keep track of loyalties.”

He gives her a sidelong look. “Less than a day living here and the paranoia is getting to you already? I think that must be some kind of record.”

She scowls. “I am _not_ paranoid. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that sleeping on top of a thousand soldiers is great until they all decide to rebel.”

“I see your point.” His robes trail behind him, silk cascading and gliding over the lip of each stair. “You’re right to be concerned. Nothing is completely foolproof, but I’ve come up with a solid vetting system. It was implemented shortly after I took the throne.”

“Oh? What’s so special about this system?” At his sly smirk over his shoulder, she wags her finger at him. “Intimidation will only go so far, you know. Ty Lee told me what happened with Azula and the Dai Li, you can’t rely on that.”

A chuckle scratches the edges of his throat. “No intimidation tactics. Just an interview with our friend the living lie detector. Toph weeded out those loyal to Ozai or my sister after the war and helped me build a strong staff. I don’t hire anyone new without consulting with her first.”

She nods approvingly. “Did your ministers get the same treatment?”

Something like pride shines in his eyes. “You know, I think you’ll do just fine here.” He turns back around. “They were among the first people she talked to, after the cooks and the guards.”

Katara opens her mouth and then closes it again, blinking a few times. “That’s… actually really smart.”

He gives her a flat look as they round the corner to the next staircase. “Don’t act so surprised.”

“I’m not! I’m just impressed.” They bypass the third floor and keep climbing. “How many more flights are there?”

“Two more.” He looks back at her. “You’re not getting tired, are you?”

“No, I just feel bad for the people who had to lug all my trunks up these stairs.”

“Katara, that’s their job.” When she shoots him a look, he adds, “a job for which they are well compensated, I might add.”

“Alright, if you say so.” They turn up yet another staircase. “I’m sorry, it’s just going to take some time to get used to all this. Are you sure I shouldn’t just stay in the guest wing?”

His features drip with false sympathy. “You’d make those poor staff members carry your things all the way to the western tower?”

Her cheeks flame. “Of course not!”

“Then I guess you’ll just have to adjust.” He drapes an arm around her shoulders and gives her a squeeze. “We’re here.”

The staircase gives way to an expansive foyer. Fire Nation banners decorate the walls beside burning braziers, and a plush tasseled rug cushions her feet. In front of her is an intricately carved wooden door with a stylized flame at its center. A brief hallway extends to her left and right, and at each end she can see similar closed doors.

Ignoring the guards posted at the top of the staircase, Zuko approaches the center door. “Well, this is it. Ready?”

She nods eagerly, and he pushes open the door. Her breath catches. Unlike the darkened hallways, filtered sunlight greets her through a broad window, giving the room a warm glow. As she steps into the room her boots tap softly on the wooden floors, which feature geometric designs which draw the eye to the room’s feature occupant: the bed. The massive carved frame rests on a platform in the room’s center, its high canopy stretching toward the ceiling but not coming even close to touching it. In the afternoon light, the gold accents on the bedframe practically glow. Spaced out along the walls is a sparse collection of artfully arranged furniture, including a desk. Potted plants frame the window, soaking up the ambient light. Toward the back of the room she sees a set of double doors – a closet, perhaps – and another door that likely leads to a washroom. The luggage that accompanied her on her journey from the south pole is carefully stacked toward the back of the room.

Stepping beside her, Zuko leans down to murmur in her ear. “Still want to stay in the guest wing?”

She swallows, throat gone dry. “I think this will do.”

“Good. It’s not quite where I wanted you, but Uncle suggested this would be the best choice until we’re married.”

“And where did you want me?”

He points to the ceiling. “Upstairs with me. In the royal apartments.”

She smacks his arm. “Zuko!”

He rubs the back of his neck. “It’s not like that! It’s traditional for the Fire Lady to have her own space. The floor upstairs is divided into two connecting apartments. You still would have had your own room.”

She quirks a brow, but she can’t keep the smile out of her voice. “One that you could sneak into.”

“I could sneak into _this_ one if I wanted.” He considers this, rubbing his chin. “Not that I would have to sneak. I’m the Fire Lord, who’s going to stop me?” At the look she gives him he backtracks. “Not that I would!”

She considers the implications of his comments and frowns, feeling disappointed. “We won’t get to share a room when we’re married?”

“It’s more of a formality than anything. You won’t have to sleep in your room if you don’t want to.” He smiles. “Though didn’t you say you hated my snoring?”

She sticks her nose in the air. “I’ll endure.”

He nudges her with an elbow. “I still get up at dawn, you know. Sometimes earlier if my schedule demands it.”

“Then I’ll be able to sleep peacefully after you leave.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.”

She climbs the two stairs of the raised platform in the center of the room and sinks down onto the bed. “Not yet, but like you said, I’ll adapt.”

He sits beside her. “I’m sure you will.”

She leans back on her hands and surveys the room. “This is beautiful, Zuko. I love it.”

He mirrors her posture, and tilts his head to look at her. “It was mine.”

Her brows lift. “It was?”

“This floor is for the royal family’s children, and this room is for the heir. Azula’s room was down the hall on the right. She liked living here much more than the pavilion.”

“I’ll bet.” She gives him a weary smile. “Thank you for not putting me in that one.”

“I would never. Besides, it’s smaller.”

She snorts. “Perish the thought.”

He stands, straightening out his robes. “I’ll leave you to get settled. I have one more meeting this afternoon, but I’ll see you for dinner. If you need help unpacking, just ask one of the guards to send for your attendants.”

Burgundy silk runs beneath her fingers, in stark contrast to her blue robes. She feels silly and more than a little petty, but she has to ask. “Zuko?”

“Yes?”

“I know this was your old room, and it’s really incredible, but… do you mind if I do a little redecorating? It’s kind of… red in here.”

He smiles. “Do whatever you like. It’s your room for the next six months.”

“I don’t want to be disrespectful.”

“Far from it. I want you to be comfortable. If you need things from the market to decorate, ask for Fumiko. I hear she has a good eye and knows the best shops. Though if you want other colors, you might have more luck in the village near the docks; they have more of an international selection there.”

She pushes herself off the bed. “Thanks, Zuko.”

He pulls her in for a hug. “Welcome home, Katara.”

She spends the rest of the afternoon unpacking. Though she could have asked for help, she opts to complete the task alone. She wants to take her time committing this to memory. Throughout her time travelling during the war, she had slept in so many places – from tree houses to prison cells, from temples to palaces, from the belly of a ship to a sleeping bag beneath a sea of stars. Even the back of a furry flying bison. But this would only be her second true, permanent home, and she wanted to savor the moment of moving in.

Her whole life had been carefully stored away in those trunks, and when she left the south pole it had seemed like such an abundance. Faced with the size of the room and its closets, her possessions take up precious little space. It’s hard for her to imagine having enough clothing to fill the racks and shelves, but she supposes that she doesn’t have to. There’s no rule that says that the Fire Lady has to double as a fashionista. Or is there? She’d have to check with Zuko about expectations.

Already ideas for redecorating are percolating in her mind, and before she leaves she jots down a few notes on the sheets of parchment she finds in the desk. She isn’t sure what the protocol is when she leaves her room, so she nods politely to the guards at the top of the stairs as she makes her way down through the tower on her way to the dining hall.

At dinner, Zuko surprises her with traditional Water Tribe fare. Her eyes water at the gesture – and then water from the taste. Apparently, the chefs were accustomed to adding spices to _everything_. She’d need to requisition the kitchen staff and kindly give them a few pointers before the week was out.

Over dinner, Zuko tells her more about daily life in the palace. Already she had a tentative itinerary for the next few days – meetings with her staff, an appointment with the tailor to fit her for new robes, a tour with Ito to show her the rest of the royal quarters, and an entire afternoon blocked off to pamper her at the spa. By the time Zuko bids her goodnight outside her room, her head is spinning with the details of the new life she has stepped into. As she crawls into the sheets – which had been replaced with a deep navy while she was gone – she feels the slightest pang of loneliness. Homesickness, even. Which is ridiculous; she is home.

Well, almost. Not quite.

She pushes back the sheets and reaches for her robe. Tying the sash, she squares her shoulders and exits her room.

The guards at the base of the stairs exchange a look. “Lady Katara? Is there something that you need?”

“No, thank you.” With as much dignity as she can muster, she strides past them, climbing the stairs to the floor above.

The foyer of the royal apartments is smaller, lacking the long hallways that extend in either direction on the left and right. Instead, there is a single immense door featuring twin dragons twining around a stylized flame. Torches attached to pillars framing the door cast deep shadows on the polished floor. No less than six Imperial Firebenders stand guard, and they stiffen when they see her. It takes everything she has not to spin on her heels and go back to her room. But as a daughter of the southern water tribe, she has her pride. She holds her head high and approaches the door.

She can feel the eyes of the guards on her when she raises her hand to knock. The sound of it echoes hollowly, and for a long moment there is no sound from the other side. Has Zuko gone to sleep already? Or maybe the room was so big that he couldn’t hear? More than once she resists the urge to fidget, each second feeling like an eternity as she tries to decide if she should knock again or simply go back to her own room.

She is about to raise her fist to knock once more when she hears shuffling from within. There is the sound of metal latches being tripped, and after a moment the door cracks open to reveal a disheveled Fire Lord. Zuko had taken his hair down and his robe looks as hastily donned as hers.

“Katara? Is everything okay?”

She glances to the guards standing by, no doubt intent on hearing why she was bothering their lord in the middle of the night. Instantly she feels foolish. “Um…”

“Come here.” He grabs her wrist and pulls her forward, shutting the door and shielding them from curious eyes and ears. “What’s wrong?”

She takes in yet another grand foyer, this one the size of her room downstairs. At a glance she confirms what he said earlier; there are in fact two doors to divide the floor into separate apartments. “I’m sorry to wake you. I feel really stupid.”

“What do you need?”

“I just…” She drops her gaze, wringing her hands in front of her. “Would it be okay… I mean, you can say no and I’ll go back downstairs, but…”

From the corner of her eye she can see him blink in surprise as he catches on. In a soft voice touched with incredulity, he says, “You want to stay here?”

She peeks at him from beneath her lashes. “Just for tonight?”

He gives her a conspiratorial smile. “I won’t tell Uncle if you won’t.”

She gestures guiltily at the door. “Will _they_ tell Uncle?”

“Not if they know what’s good for them.”

Her shoulders sag in relief. “Thank you, Zuko.”

Warm arms surround her, and already she can feel sleep coming to claim her. He nuzzles her cheek and delivers a soft kiss to her jaw. “Let’s go to bed.”

At the husky tone of his voice, she quips, “I think you liked saying that more than you should, your majesty.”

“You have no idea. But I’ll be good.”

The look she gives him is skeptical. “Aren’t you bad at being good?”

“I am. But let’s not forget that it was _you_ who knocked on _my_ door.”

She pushes playfully at his chest. “Forget it. I’m going back to my room.”

“No!” He laughs. “Come on. The bed is big enough for four. You won’t even know I’m there.”

“Except for the snoring, you mean.”

He shrugs and feigns nonchalance. “Hey, you can always go back downstairs…”

She catches his hand. “No. I think I’ll stay. That is okay, right? You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

He takes her hand and leads her though the door to the left. From what she can tell from the moonlight that streams in one window, the setup is similar to her room downstairs. And he was right: the bed is _enormous_. She rationalizes that all of Team Avatar could sleep in that bed, and even with Toph’s sprawling they would still not even touch. The thought makes it feel slightly less scandalous.

He lets go of her hand and pads to one side of the bed before shrugging off his robe. He wears simple sleeping pants and nothing else. She eyes his bare chest as he slides between the sheets, and he pauses when he catches her staring. “What?”

She swallows. “Nothing.” Quickly she makes her way to the other side of the bed, shucking her own robe and practically diving between the sheets. She keeps to the edge and flattens out on her back, her head sinking into the luxuriously soft pillow.

From across the bed, she hears Zuko’s voice as he adjusts. “Good night, Katara.”

“Good night, Zuko.”

Closing her eyes, she concentrates on the smooth sheets and the soft sound of Zuko’s breathing. She feels better than she did in her own room, but it still isn’t enough. Rolling her head to the right, she thinks that the lump that is Zuko is much too far away for her taste. Squeezing her eyes shut – she knows she will never hear the end of this – she calls out softly to him.

“Zuko?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you…?”

There is a soft sigh, and the bed dips as he shifts his weight. Before long, an arm snakes around her waist and he pulls her back against him.

“Better?”

She presses against the warmth at her back and already she can feel herself start to relax. “Much.” The soft, rhythmic pulse of his breath on her neck lulls her to the edge of sleep. “ _This_ is home.”

****

The next few weeks pass by in a blur. Katara might have balked at first, but she is indeed grateful for her attendants as they help usher her through her days and monitor her adjustment to living at the palace. She starts to recognize some faces as she walks through the halls, and tradition be damned, she smiles and greets the people she knows by name. It just isn’t in her to act above it all. When Hideko chastises her, all she can think of are those snooty girls in Ba Sing Se who she and Toph washed down a canal. She doesn’t think she could act like that if she tried.

She does her best to acclimate in other ways, however. When she is not learning table etiquette or touring the capitol, she has her nose stuck in books. Though it was probably an unusual request, Ito seemed secretly pleased when she asked for books about Fire Nation history and government. He introduces her to the palace library and lets her have her fill. She carts books up into her room, and tucks them under her arm when she goes to sit by the turtleduck pond. In the mornings she sometimes wakes up to an open book sprawled next to her and the oil in her lamp depleted.

Despite an overwhelming first day, as the weeks pass she feels she is fitting in with the pace of her new life. Her attendants marvel at her adaptation, but really, she was from the Water Tribe – she could be as fluid as the water she bends, and it was never difficult for her to master new concepts. But just as she is getting the hang of things, Zuko goes and ruins it for her.

They are in the middle of lunch three weeks after her arrival. His eyes glued to a scroll in his lap, he casually sips his tea. “Are you ready for the announcement tomorrow?”

She swallows her bite of rice. “Announcement?”

“The engagement. The formal announcement is tomorrow. Hideko said your robes came back from the tailor this morning.”

“Oh, that. She mentioned something about it, but didn’t give a lot of details. Will I be meeting your council?”

The hand holding his tea cup stops halfway to his mouth. “Not quite.”

Picking up her own cup, she takes a sip. “Oh. More than that?”

“The island.”

She almost chokes. “The _island_?”

“And any other citizens who wish to ferry over from the other islands.”

_“What?”_

“It’s traditional to introduce a new member of the royal family to the citizens, which typically includes betrothals and births.” He pauses. “And on occasion, banished princes who have been restored to status.”

“How is that even possible? Where would all those people even _fit_?”

“Down by the bay. We’ll announce from the tower, and all of the citizens will be gathered below. The crowd’s too big to fit in the coronation plaza.”

She puts her face in her hands. “That’s not exactly comforting.”

He scoots closer to her and lays a hand on her shoulder. “It won’t be a big deal, I promise. It’s more of an inconvenience than anything. All you have to do is walk out onto the balcony when your name is called and wave to the citizens below. If you like, you can say a few words, but you don’t have to.”

Her head snaps up. “A few words? What am I supposed to say?” Her chair scrapes the floor as she quickly shoots to her feet. “I have to go! I need to prepare for this!”

His hand finds her wrist. “Whoa! If you want a speech, we have staff members who can write one for you. Your clothes are already picked out, and transportation is taken care of. There’s really nothing you need to do.”

She looks at him like he’s grown a second head. “I can’t have someone else write my speech! If this is to introduce me to the people, it needs to be my words that they hear.”

“You want to write one yourself?”

She frowns. “I’m capable, if that’s what you mean. Remember the play? I’m famous for my flowery inspirational speeches.”

He winces. “That’s not what I meant. If you really want to, that’s up to you.”

“I do. And I’d better get started if I’m going to be ready by tomorrow!”

She spends the rest of the afternoon in her room, crumbling page after page of parchment, trying to find the words to say to Zuko’s people, but nothing seems quite right. She knows that not everyone agrees with Zuko’s choice; the opinion of his people was one of the reasons he had waited so long to propose in the first place. She has an opportunity to make an important first impression, and she needs to make it count.

The moon is high by the time she finishes, and she hopes that it will be enough. More than enough. She hopes that she can make Zuko and his people proud. Her sleep is fitful, and by the time she wakes in the morning she feels like she hasn’t gotten any rest at all. When she looks at her reflection she is grateful that they will be up in a tower; the bags under her eyes are far from flattering.

The morning is spent in the spa. She is scrubbed and scoured, and her hair is washed and styled to Fumiko’s approval. Machiko files her nails and takes her time meticulously applying her makeup. Katara can’t understand all of the attention to detail; who will even see her this close? But she knows better than to argue when Hideko insists on making sure her feet are manicured along with her hands. They serve her lunch in her dressing gown to prevent spills on her formal robes, though she can barely eat anything for the nerves. She is so frazzled that after they fit her into her gown she almost leaves her speech in her room and has to take the stairs by twos to rush back to get it.

Zuko joins her in the courtyard, his own hair coiffed to perfection in a clean topknot. His robes are crisp and clean; she thinks she hasn’t seen him look this elegant since his coronation. And It might just be a trick of the noonday sun, but even the crown in his hair looks like it has been buffed to a brilliant shine. As she approaches the palanquin, she says, “Looks like you got the royal treatment this morning as well.”

He rolls his eyes. “If by royal you mean excessive, then yes.”

“Glad to know I wasn’t the only one.”

He nods. “We’re in this together.”

“For better or worse, I suppose,” she quips. The curtains of the palanquin part, and he allows her to climb in first.

Taking his seat, he says, “Hmm. Let’s try to aim for more better than worse, shall we?”

“That will only work if we can keep these kinds of events to a minimum.”

The palanquin starts to move, and he gives a lopsided, sympathetic grin. “Sorry. These kinds of things sort of come with the territory. You think this is bad, wait until our wedding.”

Her heart sinks and she frowns. “You really know how to make a girl feel better, Zuko.”

“Sorry. Again.” He leans forward to peek out of the curtain. “Looks like a lot of people are headed to the bay.”

She grips the edge of the cushion beneath her. “ _Not_ helping.”

He wipes a hand over his face. “Ugh. Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut.”

“That might be the most helpful thing you’ve said all morning.”

True to his word, Zuko holds her silence as they travel, though she isn’t sure if this is as helpful as she had hoped. Outside of the palanquin she can hear an unusual number of distant voices and scuffling feet as hordes of people make their way down the long winding trail down the mountainside and through the villages below. The closer they get, the more her heart insists on slamming against her ribcage. When the palanquin finally slows to a stop, she thinks she might just be sick.

Zuko gives her a hopeful look. “You ready?”

Katara can feel her breathing becoming shallow. “You sure you need me for this? I could just wait for you here.”

He smiles. “It wouldn’t be much of a betrothal announcement without my betrothed.” He leans over and takes her face in his hands, kissing her softly on the forehead. “You’ll be fine. You fought Azula. There’s no way this is scarier than that.”

She bites her lip. “It’s _because_ I fought her that some of those people down there won’t be too happy to see me.”

He grips her chin lightly between his fingers and forces her eyes to his. “I fought her too. And I’m still here.”

Her eyes fall to the side. “It’s more than that. You remember, years back with the pentapox plague? They were scared of me. They _hated_ me.”

“Things change. I can’t promise that all of those people support us, but more do now than they did then. There will be plenty of cheering, but you won’t get to hear it if you don’t come out of the palanquin.”

“You’re right.” She takes a breath. “Okay. I’m ready.”

He smiles. “Good. Machiko will provide you with any last minute details, and she’ll show you where to stand to wait for your entrance.”

Her heart drops. “You won’t be with me? What happened to being in this together?”

His brow furrows. “We are. But I have a speech of my own to give, and I need to be up there first to introduce you.” He tucks a stray lock of hair back behind her ear. “It’s going to be fine. I promise.”

“Okay. See you soon?”

He kisses her. “Soon. Did I mention how beautiful you look? All of those people are going to be completely dazzled.”

She smiles in spite of herself. “You look pretty dazzling yourself.”

He steals one last kiss before departing the palanquin, and then she is left alone. She takes a moment to send a prayer to any spirit that will listen that this goes smoothly. For her sake and for Zuko’s.

With legs that shake only a little, she greets Machiko, who leads her to the base of the tower that overlooks the bay. She remembers this place, but her memories are more from the vantagepoint on the other side. Once again, another Fire Nation landmark is rewritten in her personal history. She wasn’t here to take down battlements or fight her way to the top. She was here to rule, but not to conquer.

She hopes that the people below understand the distinction.

Machiko guides her into the tower, and up a switchback staircase, issuing instructions all the way. “His majesty will be introduced, and then he will give a brief speech. You must remain behind the curtains until he announces your name, and when he does, the curtains will be drawn back and you will walk onto the balcony. Meet him at the railing, and be sure to wave at the people below. Lord Zuko said you prepared a speech, is that correct?” So focused on keeping from tripping on her robes as they climb, Katara barely registers that Machiko is asking her a question. She had no idea her new life would include so many stairs.

“Lady Katara, is that correct?”

“What?”

“Your speech, my lady.”

“Oh, yes, Machiko. The scroll is in my sleeve.”

The girl ahead of her nods. “Very good. After the crowd dies down, give your speech. When you are finished, Lord Zuko will say a few more words, and then you will be done. The whole thing should take no more than half a candle mark.”

All this fuss for a mere handful of moments. She adds this to the mental armor she had been trying to build; half a candle mark was nothing. They’d spent longer than that buffing her toenails this morning. “Okay. I think I’ve got it.”

At the top of the stairs she sees the tall, wide curtains that block her view of the bay and the crowds gathered below. Though they are not visible, she can hear them, the combined murmur of their voices blending in with the hush of the rolling tide beyond. Her throat goes dry. “Machiko? Do you think you could find something for me to drink, please?”

“Right away, my lady. Please remain here while I find something for you.”

Before Katara can nod in agreement the girl is gone, sprinting down the stairs with her robes pinched between her fingers. Looking around, she notices more than just the curtains. The walls are hung with all manner of artillery; spears, bows, and quivers full of arrows remind her that the tower’s primary purpose is not to show off members of the royal family. It is to protect them. It shouldn’t be comforting to be surrounded by weapons of war, but in this moment it is. She moves to examine the arrowheads more closely, and almost pricks her finger when a familiar voice startles her from behind.

“Katara! How radiant you look today!”

Katara spins, her robes blossoming around her ankles as she whirls away from the weaponry. “Iroh?!”

But she is already being enveloped in a hug, and after she blinks away her shock she wraps her arms around him and squeezes back. “It’s so good to see a familiar face. What are you doing here?”

He pulls back and winks. “Am I not a member of the royal family? It is only fitting that I should be here for Zuko’s wedding announcement.”

She feels ridiculous. _Of course_ he should be here. “But Zuko didn’t mention you’d be here. I’m just surprised.”

“Then Zuko did as I asked and kept it a secret. I wanted it to be a surprise – that, and the party I’m throwing in your honor afterward!”

Katara tries to smile, but it likely comes off as a grimace, and her voice comes out in a squeak. “Party?”

“But of course! What is a wedding announcement without a celebration!”

“Iroh, that’s… so kind of you.”

Either not picking up on the distress on her voice or choosing not to, he pats her on the shoulder and beams. “The least I could do, my dear.” An unfamiliar man in palace finery approaches and speaks low into Iroh’s ear. “It seems that they are ready for me. I must get into position.”

“You’re part of the ceremony?”

Iroh’s smile remains, but his voice drops to a somber pitch. “Zuko is my son. I asked to be the one to introduce him today. It does my heart good to see him so happy, and I insisted on being a part of it.”

Katara smiles softly. “I’m sure he was pleased to hear that.”

“He was, in his own way.” For a brief moment Iroh’s gaze turns inward, and he smiles to himself. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have an audience waiting!” He flashes her a grin before disappearing through the curtains.

She can hear his voice booming out over the crowds, and the tide of voices she heard earlier dies down to produce an eerie kind of quiet.

As she listens, a young woman approaches her from the right.

“Your tea, my lady.”

Katara reaches for the cup offered to her on the tray, but hesitates. “Where’s Machiko?”

The girl blinks, keeping her head bowed and the tray in her hands steady. “Machiko asked me to deliver this to you, my lady. The Fire Lord intercepted her and sent her on another errand. I’m sure she will return to attend to you shortly.”

Deep in her gut, something tells her that this is wrong. Why would Zuko commandeer her attendant? He has plenty of his own. But then again, he’s the Fire Lord, and in a pinch he might make demands of anyone nearby. All the servants were screened, anyway, so what was the harm? She chalks up her paranoia to nerves and accepts the cup.

“Thank you.”

“A pleasure to serve, my lady.” And with that, she disappears back down the stairwell.

Grateful to have something to wet her parched throat, Katara practically gulps the tea. Though now she is left with an empty cup and no idea what to do with it. Spotting a passing staff member, she waves him down.

“Excuse me, could you please – “

“Of course, my lady.”

Boots pound the stairs, and relief floods her when she turns to see another familiar face entering the tower.

“Zuko!”

He reaches up to adjust the crown in his hair. “Am I late?”

She shakes her head. “No, Iroh is still going on about how wonderful you are.” She smiles at his thinly veiled embarrassment. “Where have you been?”

Straightening his robes, he says, “Last minute preparations. Nothing to worry about.”

She gives him a skeptical look. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a party later, would it?”

His eyes pop. “Uncle told you?”

She pokes his chest. “Mmhmm. You’re in a lot of trouble, your highness.”

He holds up his hands in supplication. “Uncle swore me to secrecy! I was honor bound not to breathe a word!”

“Alright, you get a pass, just this once.” A wave of dizziness hits her, and she reaches out to steady herself on his arm.

“Are you okay?”

She offers a shaky laugh. “Just nervous. I really should have eaten more at breakfast.”

“You’ll have plenty of options at the party later.” Beyond the curtain, Iroh’s voice raises dramatically, calling his name. “That’s me. You ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be”

“You’ll be great. See you out there.”

She watches him stride through the curtains and hears the crowds erupt in applause. She smiles to herself, thinking that at least the people are excited to see _him_. He deserved it, with all of the hard work he had put in over the years.

Iroh exits the balcony from a side entrance, winking as he comes to stand beside her. Pride is evident in his face as he listens to Zuko’s speech. She tries to listen along with him, but she finds that the words and fading in and out. Her vision starts to swim.

“Uncle…” The word feels strange in her mouth, like her tongue is too large to fit behind her teeth. “I’m not… feeling very well.”

He produces a fan from his sleeve. “Take slow breaths, my dear. It is natural to be nervous. My wife was beside herself when we did this so many years ago, but she performed beautifully, just as you will.”

Suddenly her stomach seizes, and she feels as though she has been run through by Zuko’s swords. She sucks air through her teeth and tries to find the words, but thinking is becoming difficult. “I don’t think… I need…”

Without warning she doubles over and vomits. She can hear Iroh shout, hear the alarm in his voice as he snatches her from behind, keeping her buckling knees from hitting the ground as the world fades to black.

*****

When she wakes up, she is back in her bedroom. Moonlight and a night breeze filter in from the open window, and a single lamp burns low on a bedside table. Her temples throb in time with her heart, and her mouth feels sticky and dry, tasting like rotten penguin-seal blubber.

Carefully she tries to sit up, ignoring the protests from her head and stomach. A pitcher of water sits next to the lamp, along with a bowl and cloth. She wants nothing more than snatch up the pitcher and drink her fill, but she doesn’t reach for it. What had happened? How did she get here? Like a dream, she remembers the tower by the bay, the crowds and the sighing of the sea, but her memories are fuzzy around the edges.

The only other source of light comes from a crack under the door to the washroom, and beyond it she can hear hushed, tense voices, both of which she recognizes.

“Zuko, you must reconsider.”

“It’s done, Uncle.”

“This is rash, even for you.”

“Is it? Because I think it’s one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.”

The voices drop so that she can no longer make out the words. Confused and concerned, she gingerly swings her legs out of bed, and reaches her toes toward the floor, straining until they touch. Spots dance in front of her eyes and she wobbles when she stands, but after a few deeps breaths she feels steady enough to try walking. Keeping her arms out for balance, she edges toward the washroom on silent feet.

She is shivering by the time she makes it to the washroom, and she slides down the length of the wall until she is kneeling. She leans against the door, pressing her ear to the wood. The disappointment in Iroh’s tone is palpable when he speaks again.

“You would give up so easily?”

“I’m _not_ giving up. I’m keeping her safe. That’s what matters.”

“She may not agree with you.”

“After today, I think she’ll be more than happy to see the back of this place.”

Iroh sighs. “I beg you to reconsider. Think this through. Think of what you will be abandoning.”

“I have. It’s for the best.”

Her head feels dangerously light, but if it’s from the illness or the implications of the conversation she doesn’t know. The exertion costs her, and with the dizziness comes overpowering and insistent nausea. Frantic, she lunges for an antique urn placed by the door and empties the meager contents of her stomach into it. At the sound of her retching the door bursts open.

“Katara? Where – Katara!” Zuko is at her side immediately; he crouches down and gathers her hair out of her face. “You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

She tries to stand, but her limbs shake and she stumbles into his arms. She offers him a watery gaze. “I’m sorry.”

His brow furrows. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. Come on, let me help.” He stoops and hooks an arm under her legs and carries her back to bed while she holds onto his neck limply. While Zuko tucks her in, Iroh pours a little water into the basin by the bed. Dipping the cloth into the water, he wrings it out before applying it to her forehead. It’s blissfully cool against her fevered skin.

“You had quite the scare today, my dear. We all did. But you will be fine. Stay in bed and rest. We are sorry that we woke you.” Iroh gives Zuko a pointed look. “I will return in the morning.”

Taking the cloth from his uncle and continuing the ministrations, Zuko never takes his eyes off her. “I’ll be right here.”

Iroh nods and exits, and Zuko sits down on the edge of the bed. She falls asleep to the rhythm of his fingers combing through her hair.

She sleeps. She wakes at odd times, not really sure if she is still trapped in dreams. The sun and moon greet her through the window at intervals, but she has no real way of knowing how much time has passed. Sometimes she eats a few bites of rice, sometimes she drinks water. On one occasion she remembers making it to the washroom with Fumiko’s assistance. Throughout it all, Zuko is right there when she wakes, eyes frightened and concerned. She offers him weak smiles and empty reassurances before her eyes drift closed yet again.

When her fever finally breaks, she wakes up in a sweat. Strands of hair are plastered to her forehead, but at least her head is no longer pounding. As her eyes adjust to the sunlight, the first thing she notices is that Zuko isn’t at her bedside. Sitting up carefully, she sees him rummaging around in the trucks she brought from the south pole. The sight is odd; she put those away in the closet weeks ago. Her half sleeping brain whispers _what are those doing out?_

Running a hand through her damp hair, she says, “Zuko? What’s going on?” The words scratch against her throat.

“You’re awake?” He drops one of her coats into a trunk and rushes over, the bed sinking under his weight as he sits beside her, pressing his palm against her forehead. “How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve been run over by a herd of arctic moose, but other than that, okay.”

Desperation and relief vie for prominence on his face. “Good. Master Takemura said you’d probably feel like that, but it shouldn’t last more than a few days.” He reaches for the pitcher on the bedside table and pours her a glass of water. “Here. Drink this.”

The water feels so good on her throat that she takes gulps rather than sips. “Hey! Not so fast. You’ll make yourself sick.”

Her thoughts still feel slow, like they’re swimming against the current. She latches onto a snippet of Zuko’s previous statement.

“Master Takemura?”

He nods and takes the glass from her. “You remember him. Uncle’s friend. He helped with the pentapox case.”

Ah. The White Lotus physician. “Did uncle call for him?”

“No. He’s the palace physician. He’s been here for as long as I can remember.”

Her brain starts to catch up. _That’s right._ Absentmindedly she says, “We should invite him to the wedding.”

Zuko’s smile falters. “Let’s talk about that when you’re feeling better.”

They lapse into a brief silence, giving her time to gather her thoughts. Her memories feel strange and disconnected, fragments of life rather than a coherent whole. How long had it been? Hours? Days? She needs help to fit the pieces together. Gathering her courage, she asks, “So… what happened? At the tower, I mean.”

Zuko looks away, shame weighing down his features. “Someone impersonated a servant and snuck into the tower. She offered you poisoned tea.”

As he says it the image forms in her mind, but the memory is like a dream, the colors too bright and the details hazy. “I remember thinking that I’d never seen her before…”

Zuko runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “You always were too trusting.”

She frowns. “How was I supposed to know?” The implication stirs her blood and her aggravation. “You said it was safe!”

He winces. “I know.” The hurt in his eyes cuts her to the core, and she can feel his regret. “I thought it was. We took all the necessary precautions, but it happened anyway.” His eyes fall to his hands. “The culprit assaulted Machiko to get to you.”

Katara gasps, suddenly wide awake at the news. “Was she hurt?”

“A bump to the head, a few bruises. She’s already feeling better and asking to return to your service.”

Her shoulders sag in relief. “I’m glad she’s okay.”

“I’m glad _you’re_ okay.” His fingers tighten on the sheets, crushing the silk. “I was so… it was awful.”

She reaches for him, running her fingers over his knuckles. “Hey, it’s okay – “

“It’s _not_ okay.” He pulls away from her. “It was Sozin’s Comet all over again. I put you in a dangerous situation thinking I could protect you, and then I couldn’t. And there wasn’t anything I could do.”

“It’s over now.” She bites her lip. “Did you find the person responsible?”

His face grows stormy. “It’s been dealt with.”

The hardness in his voice makes her hesitant to ask. “You didn’t…”

“What?” He gets her meaning and stares hard at the window, curling his lip. “No. I should have. It’s treason.”

She tries to catch his gaze. “You were a traitor once.”

His eyes narrow. “To some of my people I still am.”

“Only to a few. They’ll come around.”

He shakes his head. “That’s what I had hoped. But it’s not enough. Just one was all it took to do this. It’s worse than I imagined.”

He gets off the bed, paces to the window, braces his hands on the sill and looks out onto the city below. The overheard conversation drifts back to her, and her heart sinks at what she can recall.

“You’re giving up.”

He looks at her over his shoulder. “What?”

“You were talking to Iroh…” She looks around the room at her things in boxes and it starts to click into place. Her breathing comes a little faster. “No…. no. You can’t.”

He hangs his head, refusing to face her. “I have to, Katara. This can never work. We were foolish to think otherwise.”

The dawning horror makes her voice shake, and she can hear the desperation in it. “But… but we’ve made it this far! I’ll learn! _We’ll_ learn! We can’t let some silly thing like this stop us!”

“Silly thing?” He whirls. “ _Silly thing?_ You almost _died_ , Katara. I won’t put you at risk again. Not for this. Not for me.”

“I thought you said it was worth the risk! That nothing else mattered!”

“I did! And now that I know what matters, the decision is obvious.”

“ _Your_ decision, you mean. I haven’t given my say at all. We’ve been here before, Zuko. Remember?” She’s shouting now, but she can’t seem to control the volume of her voice. “I thought I made it clear that you don’t get to make decisions for me.”

His voice is stern. “This decision isn’t yours to make. It’s mine.”

“What?! How _dare_ you!” She slams her fists into the bed and beats back the covers, kicking her legs.

He blinks and changes his tone immediately. “Katara, hey, calm down.”

“You think you can tell me what to do?” She finally shakes off the last of the sheets and scrambles for the edge of the bed.

“Katara, you need to rest – “

On shaking feet she stands, and with every bit of her energy she stalks toward him. “I will not! You can’t treat me like this!”

“Katara –“ He reaches for her but she smacks his hand away, poking a finger hard into his chest.

“You can’t throw away everything we’ve worked for, like it doesn’t even matter – “

“- If you would just listen – “

“Why should I? I don’t even know who you _are_ right now! The man I agreed to marry is a fighter – never give up without a fight, remember?”

This gets his attention, and he scowls. “I _have_ been fighting!”

“So why stop now?”

“I don’t want to fight _you_ too!”

“Well you’ll have to if you think you can get away with this!”

“No! You need to be in bed!”

“Stop telling me what to do!”

“It’s for your own good!”

“That’s _IT_!” Her response is automatic. She doesn’t even reach for her bending, she reaches out with her hands. And shoves him. Hard. _“Get out!”_

She knows she didn’t hurt him but he looks wounded all the same. “Katara. At least let me – “

“No! Get out! _NOW!”_

He screws up his face and exhales smoke. “Fine!”

_“Fine!”_

She holds her ground long enough to watch him storm out of the room and slam the door hard enough to rattle the frame. As soon as he leaves she collapses to her knees, energy spent and limbs quivering.

Breathing hard, her mind reels. What just happened? What has she _done?_

Zuko’s muffled shouts can be heard down the hall, and even from here she can hear his boots stomp up the stairs. Moments later Hideko rushes in.

“My lady! What are you doing out of bed?”

Katara allows herself to be walked listlessly back to bed. Once there, Hideko fusses to mop sweat from her brow.

“You must rest, my lady. I’ll fetch Master Takemura.”

“No.”

Hideko pauses. “My lady?”

“I just…” She can barely make eye contact as she tries to keep her angry tears at bay. “I just need to be alone. I’ll rest, I promise.”

Hideko looks torn, but bows and pads to the door. “I’ll be right outside should you need anything.”

“Thank you, Hideko”

“A pleasure to serve, my lady.”

This time, the door closes with a soft click, and this time, Katara allows her tears to fall until sleep claims her.

When she wakes again, the room is stained red with the setting sun. Her eyes feel swollen and her head throbs, though it has nothing to do with the poison. She sits up and surveys the room. As soon as she sees her things stuffed in trunks, it all comes back with painful clarity.

“Zuko…” she sighs.

“He is not here. I hope you will accept my presence instead, poor substitute that I am.”

Katara’s head swings in the direction of the voice. “Uncle Iroh?”

He marks the book he was reading before closing it, setting it on his lap. “How do you feel, my dear?”

She scrubs at her eyes with a knuckle. “Better. But awful all the same.” He is quiet for a moment, giving her space to collect her thoughts. He was always so patient. She knows he wants her to elaborate, but she sidesteps. “I didn’t know you were still here. I thought you might have gone back to Ba Sing Se by now.”

His voice is even but odd, lacking the jovial quality she is used to. “My stay in the Fire Nation may be prolonged due to extenuating circumstances.”

“I’m sorry. Please don’t feel like you need to stay here on my account. I’m feeling better now, really.”

“It is not your fault.” He abandons his book, setting it aside. “I am here to support both you and Zuko as circumstances dictate.”

There’s something he’s not saying. He’s always been cryptic, too. “Have you spoken with Zuko?”

“On many occasions, yes.”

She fidgets with her sheets. “Since… um, our fight?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” She feels an irrational urge to explain herself, but quashes it. “Is he still mad?”

Iroh tilts his head. “Are you?”

“Yes… no… I don’t know.” She sighs. “He does this. He thinks he needs to protect me. He tries to make decisions for me when we’re supposed to be a team.”

“He told you his decision then?”

She hugs her arms. “He didn’t need to. It was easy enough to guess.”

Iroh regards her for a moment and then stands. “I suggest you speak with him again. You may not like what he has to say, but try to hear him, nonetheless.”

She can detect the reprimand in his voice and she squirms. It was unlike him to be disappointed in her, and she finds that she does not want to feel it any more than she has to. Still, she can’t help but feel a little indignant. “Does that mean you’re on his side?”

A small smile graces his lips, and she finds that a little bit of hope returns along with it. “Actually, I am hoping that you can talk some sense into him. But to do that you will both need to listen with your hearts _and_ your minds.”

She drops her gaze and stares at her hands. “I know. You’re right.” She lets out a long breath. “Will you let him know that I want to see him?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you, Uncle.”

He departs and she waits with baited breath, listening for sounds in the hall. But no one comes. When the sun sinks below the horizon one of the guards enters and lights the lamps in her room. Fumiko brings her a tray of bland foods and replaces her empty water pitcher. Katara should be hungry, but her appetite has abandoned her and she can only pick at her food. Frustrated, she pushes the tray away.

What was keeping him? This late in the evening he shouldn’t be occupied with meetings. He could be in his office, slaving over paperwork, but how could he concentrate at a time like this? What could be more important? He knows that she wants to see him. Is he _that_ angry with her?

Her heart constricts. Maybe he was right. Maybe this _was_ a mistake.

She doesn’t want to admit it – she doesn’t even want to _consider_ it – but the truth is this entire world is unfamiliar. This life is more complicated than she imagined, fraught with more pitfalls and landmines than she can count. Who did she think she was, waltzing in here like she could just fit in so seamlessly? She should have known better. Azulon was probably laughing at her from the spirit world.

She shakes her head to clear her thoughts. This wasn’t like her. She refused to give in to despair. They would work this out. But to do that, they both needed to be calm. She could wait until he was ready to talk.

She could use a distraction, but there’s no telling where Zuko packed all of her things, and the idea of rummaging through her trunks is exhausting. Sighing, her eyes flick about the room and come to rest on the table by the door.

A book. Uncle’s.

She pads across the room on bare feet and retrieves it, picking up a lamp and carrying both items back to bed. For a moment she feels a sense of purpose, as though she’ll be able to relax and clear her mind, until she spies the title.

_Great Romances of the Four Nations._

She groans and flops back on her pillows. Figures.

She wants to chuck it across the room, but what else can she do? She’s wide awake, with no entertainment, and no energy to leave her room. She wishes she hadn’t returned all of her books on Fire Nation military history the day before the announcement; she’d far prefer those over this right now. But she has little choice. With a huff she cracks open the book to where Iroh has left off.

_The Tale of Oma and Shu._

Even worse. She can almost hear the Nomad’s song – _Two lovers, forbidden from one another, a war divides their people, and a mountain divides them apart…_

She snorts. Now _that’s_ a relatable story. She and Zuko had been through so much – by rights they should have never even been _friends_ , much less fallen in love. They had overcome war, cultural barriers and prejudice, first loves, and even a near death experience. Well, two of those now. Were they destined to end up like Oma and Shu – in tragedy?

No. She refused to believe that. They would overcome this, just like they had fought and won against every other obstacle the universe had thrown in their way. The path they had forged to be together had been hard won, and she intended to keep walking it right along with him. She wouldn’t give up. And she wouldn’t let Zuko give up either.

She loses herself in the tale until a soft knock on her door startles her from her thoughts. From the other side of the door she hears his voice. “Katara?”

Her heart leaps, suddenly nervous. This is it. She swallows thickly. “Come in.”

His face is unreadable as he steps into her suite. He doesn’t sit on the bed like she hoped he might; he keeps his distance and chooses a chair near the window. Behind him, Yue shines brightly – yet _another_ tragic tale – and she tries not to see it as a bad omen.

An uncomfortable silence fills the room, and she feels suffocated under its weight. “Thanks for coming.”

“Uncle said you wanted to see me.”

 _Yes, hours ago_. She bites back the retort. What had uncle said? Hearts _and_ minds. “I did.” She lets out a long, slow breath. “That was some fight.”

“It was.”

“Are you still mad?”

He shrugs, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor. “A little.”

She nods. “Me too.” Biting her lip, she says, “But I don’t want to be. I want… I want to talk, but I’m afraid of what you’ll say.”

More to himself, he says, “Uncle warned me. He said you wouldn’t like it.”

Keeping her temper in check, she says, “You should have known I wouldn’t like it either. Spirits, Zuko. After all this, you want to send me away? Just like that? It doesn’t seem fair. To either of us.”

Zuko’s head snaps up and he searches her face. “Send you away? Is that what you thought?” He runs a hand through his hair. “No wonder you were so mad.”

She makes a face, confused. “Well, if not that, what?” She gestures at the trunks. “You were packing my things.”

Het meets her eyes. “I wasn’t going to send you away. Not alone, at least. I was going to come _with_ you.”

She opens her mouth and closes it. For the first time she notices the crown missing from his hair, and his casual clothing. But that would mean… She can feel her head shaking as the pieces fall into place. “No. No, no _no_. You _can’t.”_

He tilts his head up and squares his shoulders; she knows that stubborn look. “I can and I will. I had the papers drawn up yesterday. I’ll abdicate. Uncle will take the throne. You and I will go somewhere else. Somewhere safe.”

She blinks, waiting for the punchline. This _has_ to be a joke. But his gaze remains level and his expression remains grim. Grasping for words, she starts, “Zuko… that’s…”

“The best course of action,” he interrupts. “The right one.”

An irritation builds within her, irrational and urgent. Forgetting Iroh’s advice, she explodes. “No! That’s… that’s _crazy!_ That’s the craziest plan in the history of plans!”

He gives her a flat look. “I’ve already heard this lecture from Uncle.”

She keeps control of the volume of her voice, but just barely. “Well apparently you need to hear it again. Your uncle is right. You can’t just abandon your people, Zuko. You have responsibilities here.” She sounds like she is begging.

His answer is stiff. “I won’t be abandoning them. Uncle will take my place.”

She can hear Iroh’s voice: _talk some sense into him_. She tries to center herself and takes a different approach. “That’s not fair to Iroh. You know he doesn’t want that.”

Zuko throws up his hands. “Well neither do I! Not if this is the result.”

She gives an exasperated sigh. “Zuko, you did not come this far on your journey to just leave it all behind. You were meant to do this. I refuse to be the reason that you turn your back on your destiny.”

His expression is unyielding. “And I refuse to put you in danger again. I won’t.” He looks away. “I couldn’t bear it.”

Her heart aches for him, picturing what it must have been like. She doesn’t have to imagine too hard; in the wake of Sozin’s Comet she had been the one to mop his fevered brow and pray to the spirits that he would survive. The memory of it firms her resolve but softens her tone. “Still, I won’t watch you throw away everything you’ve fought for.”

His eyes are pleading when they find hers again. “Please don’t.” He swallows. “Don’t make me choose.”

In his eyes she can see how scared he is, how conflicted and confused. He wants to do the right thing, even if it’s hard. She loves him all the more for it, even if he’s wrong.

Making up her mind, she finds her voice. “I’m not. You’re staying here, and so am I. We’re in this together, remember?”

“We are, but – “

“No buts. And when I’m better, we’re going to reschedule the announcement and I’m going to give my speech, just as planned.”

“Katara – “

“And then,” she overrides him, “in a few months we’re going to get married. I’m going to move upstairs and sleep in your bed and complain everyday about your snoring.”

A small, hopeful smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Are you sure that’s what _you_ want?”

“Isn’t that what you want?”

He sighs and rises from the chair, makes his way to the bed to sit next to her. He flops down and hunches over, studying the hands that twist in his lap. “More than anything.”

“Then we agree.” She smiles.

He’s quiet for a moment, and she can almost see the wheels in his head turning. “We’ll need to be more careful. Vigilant. We’ll have to – “

“Stop.” She covers his hand with her own. “We can strategize later. For now – do you love me?”

He flinches at the question. “Of course.”

“And I love you, too. We can do this. And _that’s_ what matters. Am I right?”

He searches her face and she can almost see the moment his mind changes, the solidarity she feels. He smirks. “Yes, Lady Katara.”

Her heart sings at the return of his smile. “Any objections?”

The soft, teasing light in his eyes has returned. _That’s_ the man she agreed to marry. “No, Lady Katara.”

She traces circles on his knuckles, teasing a slow, meandering path up his forearm. “I might have one request though.”

He tilts his head. “Oh? Let’s hear it.”

She tilts her head, looking coy. “It’s more of a demonstration.”

She leans in and kisses him, and she is reminded of their first kiss, how right it felt. Gently he lays her down on the bed, one leg hooked over hers, and together they lose time as the moon climbs higher in the sky. Their passion eventually recedes to soft sighs and softer kisses, and as she thinks back on their conversation she giggles to herself, at the absurdity of it all.

He pulls back, quirking his brow. “What’s so funny?”

She shakes her head softly. “I can’t believe that was your plan.”

He twines a lock of hair around one finger. “Are you really surprised?”

She glances around at the finery that surrounds them. “You’d really give all this up? Just for me?”

“Just for you. Without doubt or regret.”

He blurs in her vision, at the sincerity of his voice. At his conviction. “You know, I think you’re getting to be about as sentimental as your uncle.”

He nips her nose. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Her eyes fall to the trunks stacked messily against the wall. “Now I have to unpack all over again.”

“Not until after you’ve recovered. Or if you like, Fumiko and Hideko will do it for you. They’d be happy to take direction while you stay in bed.”

She wrinkles her nose. “That still feels so weird.”

“Well, you’re insisting on staying, so you’d better get used to it.”

“I suppose you’re right.” She pokes him gently in the chest. “Couldn’t I just order _you_ around instead? That sounds much more fun.”

He feigns insult. “You’d dare suggest that the Fire Lord perform menial labor?”

She laughs. “You’d be a terrible peasant. You could never give this up.”

“I could and I would.” He leans in and nuzzles her neck. “But thank you for making it so I don’t have to.”

“I would have never let you.”

“No, I don’t suppose you would.” At the yawn she can’t suppress but tries to stifle anyway, he says, “I’ll let you rest. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

With care he tucks her in and makes sure she has everything she needs before making his way to the door. As he exits, she shouts after him. “And burn those papers! First thing tomorrow!”

He snorts, and sweeps into an exaggerated bow. “Yes, Lady Katara.”.

“That’s what I thought.” Satisfied that the world has been set right, she closes her eyes and sleeps soundly for the first time in days.

She heals – they heal – in more ways than one after that. Two weeks later they step onto the balcony overlooking the bay and, hand in hand, greet their destiny together.


	5. Meant to Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What’s this? I updated this story twice within a month’s time? Dark forces must be at work! Actually, I credit the quick turnaround to those who have been kind enough to promote this story, or comment, or send me little notes about it. Thank you all for your encouragement; I find inspiration in your kindness. 
> 
> This chapter brought to you by the Zutara Week 2016 prompt “coffee.”

Bright light explodes into the room, and Katara winces.

Burying herself deeper under her sheets to block out the morning sun, Katara can hear Hideko’s muffled voice from outside her cocoon.

“Time to wake up, my lady. Breakfast is waiting.”

The very thought of food makes her stomach churn unpleasantly. “I think I’ll skip breakfast today.”

“That would be inadvisable. You have a long day ahead of you, you’ll need your energy. Besides, his majesty is waiting for you.”

Reflecting on today’s schedule, her stomach flips for different reasons and she stifles another moan. With a resigned sigh, she peeks out from beneath the sheets and squints. “Can you at least shut the curtains, please?”

“As you wish, my lady.” The room is ushered back into semi-darkness with a rustle of fabric.

Hideko helps her dress – casual wear today, comfortable and easy to remove – and all the while Katara tries her best to maintain some semblance of grace despite her lack of balance and stiff joints. A sense of resolve settles over her: she was _never_ going to drink again. And Toph was _so_ going to get it.

The stairs seem more laborious than usual as she makes her way down through the eastern tower and toward the dining hall. She resists the urge to shield her eyes – spirits, even the _torchlight_ makes the pain in her temples spike.

When she enters the dining hall, Zuko is at the head of the table, as expected. What she does not expect to see is the grinning man seated to Zuko’s left.

“Katara! So good to see you on this fine morning.”

Katara tries not to grimace at the volume of his voice or the scraping sound of the chair as Iroh rises to embrace her. He squeezes her just a little too hard and she coughs.

“Are you alright my dear? Sit, sit!”

“Katara and her friends spent the evening at the tavern last night.” Behind his tea cup she can see Zuko’s smug smirk, and she sticks her tongue out at him.

Iroh gives her a knowing smile. “Ah, yes, one last hurrah before settling into married life. I remember my own bachelor party well. Things were a bit different then, but I recall a great deal of sake. Not to mention pretty girls!” He sends her a wink.

“Uncle.” Zuko’s expression is a combination of horror and rebuke. “You’re embarrassing her.”

“Is it Katara that is embarrassed, or is it you, my nephew?”

Zuko pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s too early for this.”

Uncle chuckles. “It is your table, Zuko. I suppose we must abide by the rules you set.”

“Quite right,” Zuko mumbles, taking another bite of his breakfast.

As she listens to the exchange a plate of food is delivered – bland congee, white rice, and plain, fresh rolls. She silently thanks the kitchen staff for their consideration. She tears off a corner of the roll and chews it slowly, testing her stomach’s mettle. Once it seems like her food won’t be immediately rejected, she carefully tucks into her rice. Across from her, Iroh’s cup is filled with a dark, steaming liquid that has a sharp smell she can’t place.

“Is that a new tea?”

Iroh’s eyes sparkle at her inquiry. “Ah! This is a special treat! I was waiting for you to arrive so that you both may sample it. Please tell me what you think.”

He pours two more cups, passing them to her and Zuko. Katara gives it a sniff and feels like her sinuses have cleared. She’s curious, but after last night, she is wary of unfamiliar beverages. She quirks a brow at Iroh. “It’s strong, whatever it is.”

Iroh nods and sips from his own cup. “You may add sugar and cream to taste, if you like, but you must try it in its purest form first.”

She and Zuko share a look before taking a sip in unison. Zuko coughs and Katara swallows with great effort.

Blinking rapidly, she says, “Uncle, did you let Zuko make this tea?”

Zuko sets down his cup and frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She looks to Iroh, who is giving his nephew a sheepish smile. “Nothing at all, Zuko. I am sure that Katara only means that your tea is sometimes…”

Zuko narrows his eyes. “Sometimes what?”

“What kind of tea is this, Uncle?” Katara says, a little too loudly. “It’s certainly…” She glances at Zuko, who is giving her a flat look. “…Different,” she finishes lamely.

Zuko looks like he’s about to protest when Iroh cuts him off. “Why, it isn’t tea at all! It is a new beverage from the southern Earth Kingdom. They are calling it ‘coffee’ and it is made from beans!”

Zuko curls his lip. “Hot leaf juice wasn’t enough for you? Now you’re drinking hot _bean_ juice?”

Iroh shakes his head. “Honestly, Zuko. Sometimes I do not know how we could be related.” He reaches over and adds a spoonful of sugar to Katara’s cup and swirls it with a spoon. “Try it again.”

Reluctantly she does, and finds the taste improved. She adds another spoonful and thinks she might just be starting to like it. “It’s not bad with the sugar added. Try it, Zuko.”

Iroh claps his hands. “I had hoped you would say that! I brought a crate with me from Ba Sing Se in the case that you might like to add it to the list of refreshments at the reception. As a new delicacy, the nobility will be impressed.”

The more she drinks, the better she feels – more awake, less nauseous. She nods her approval. “If nothing else, the guests might enjoy it the morning after.”

Iroh laughs, the dry sound of it scratching along his throat. “I hear it has many helpful properties. You approve?”

Zuko shrugs and pushes the cup away. “Just be sure to label it. We don’t want the guests to think we’re serving them rancid tea.”

“As you wish.” Iroh pulls a scroll from his sleeve. “I will need to add pan-fried noodles to the menu as well. The Earth Kingdom ambassador insisted that we include them, they are the Earth King’s favorite.”

Zuko eyes the scroll suspiciously. “Is that the catering list? Where did you get that?”

“From the chef, of course! He was kind enough to provide a list of the banquet options.”

Zuko sighs. “Uncle, must you meddle? The wedding is only two days away. There’s little time for changes.”

“Zuko, no one knows more about fine food and drink than I.” He rubs the place where a bit of his belly has returned in the years since the war. “And your staff, while exceedingly capable, do not specialize in international cuisine. We have a global audience to please, you know.”

Zuko can’t seem to find fault with his argument, and neither can Katara – not after the spicy Water Tribe fare they had tried to serve after she moved to the palace. Besides, she had long since accepted that her wedding wasn’t just for her and Zuko – the world would be watching. She gives Iroh a smile. “It’s kind of you to help make this a success, Uncle.”

“It is my pleasure, my dear. I am glad to be of help.” He rolls the scroll and stuffs it back into his sleeve. “I must go speak with the kitchen staff. Katara, would you have time to come by the pavilion later?”

Katara can’t hide her surprise. “The pavilion? You’re not in the guest wing?”

Zuko plucks a bit of fish from his rice. “Uncle prefers to stay there. He says the towers are too stuffy.”

“Indeed, my nephew!” He reaches out to the floral centerpiece and strokes the petal of one of the lilies. “Besides, it gives me more reason to exchange pleasantries with Bai Ling.”

Zuko pushes his plate away. “And with that, I think I’m done here.” He turns to Katara. “Would you like me to walk with you?”

“Oh, I have my fittings first. In fact, I should probably be there by now!” She takes a few more bites of congee before pushing her chair back from the table, pocketing a roll and leaning down to give Zuko a quick kiss before bolting in the direction of the west wing.

The trip to the tailor’s workshop is brief, and she’s grateful for the newfound energy in her steps. Amazing what a little food and some ‘coffee’ could do. When she enters the room she can see that her friends have beaten her there, and they look like they could use some coffee as well.

Suki is slumped on a chaise lounge, and Ty Lee leans against her. Toph has chosen to collapse on the floor, her back against the wall and her eyes closed. At Katara’s footsteps Toph cracks one milky eye open.

“Thanks for deciding to join us, Sugar Queen.”

Katara cringes. “Sorry, guys. Have you been here long?”

“Long enough,” Toph mutters.

Ty Lee sits up and stretches. “It’s okay, Katara. We got to take a little nap while we waited!”

A pang of guilt stings her at making her friends wait so long. “You could have started without me.”

Suki shakes her head. “Jiro wouldn’t hear of it.”

At the sound of his name, the tailor emerges from a back room, a tape measure draped around his neck and the collar of his robe studded with pins. In one arm he carries a stack of packages, and in the other he holds a set of pinking shears.

“Quite right. I wanted Lady Katara’s approval on these garments before beginning alterations.”

Katara eyes the packages with trepidation, though a touch of excitement curls in her chest. “Is that them?”

Jiro tries but fails to suppress a self-satisfied smile. “It is, my lady.”

He deposits the packages on a work table marked with measuring lines, and gestures for her to come closer. Her friends amble over and everyone holds their collective breath as Katara peels back the rice paper.

Gone is the bright pastel, replaced with a breathtaking shade of plum. Jiro and his team had clearly worked some magic in dying these robes. She itches to hug him but knows that would be inappropriate. Instead she offers him her most sincere smile, hoping it conveys everything she is feeling.

“You’ve done an amazing job. I can’t thank you enough.”

“You are pleased, my lady?”

“More than pleased. You saved the day!”

Ty Lee sticks out her bottom lip. “You didn’t like the lilac?”

Katara puts a hand on her shoulder and tries to offer a sympathetic smile. “The lilac was nice, but I thought this would be a little more formal.” She bites her lip. “I hope you aren’t too upset. Your design is still the same, they’re just a different color.”

Ty Lee rallies. “Of course I’m not upset! After all, they’re still purple!”

Katara smiles. “They are. They’re just like I imagined.”

Ty Lee hugs her. “Then they’re perfect.”

Suki reaches out a tentative hand and fingers the silk. “These are gorgeous, Katara.”

Jiro snaps his fingers and assistants materialize, armed with sewing tools. “May we begin, my lady?”

The assistants whisk her friends behind various screens to measure and pin, and she can hear the soft shuffling of fabric as her friends disrobe. She laughs to herself as she hears Toph’s good-natured grumbling. From her left she hears Jiro’s voice.

“My lady, allow me to present your wedding robes.”

Jiro stands next to a sewing dummy draped in crimson and gold silk. Her breath catches. “Those are mine?”

“Indeed. Shall we?”

It takes the better part of an hour for Katara and her friends to be fitted into their new robes, and Jiro uses all of the pins from his collar and then some to tack her hem and fit her sleeves, but when he leads her over to a large mirror along one wall she can hardly believe her eyes.

She lets out a long breath. “Wow.”

“Wow, indeed, my lady. You will be stunning.”

Suki and Ty Lee emerge from behind their own dressing screens, and she can see their reflections in the mirror as they come up behind her.

“Katara! You look beautiful!” Ty Lee reaches out to hug her, but stops at the last minute, careful not to ruin the hard work on Katara’s robes or her own.

Suki smiles. “You really do. Zuko won’t know what hit him.”

Katara’s eyes sweep over the gown, hardly knowing where to focus. “You think so? I can’t wait for him to see it!”

“It won’t be long now,” Suki says, laying a hand on her shoulder.

“I know. I almost can’t believe it.”

“Believe it, Sugar Queen.” Toph is the last to join them, and Ty Lee squeals.

“ _Toph_! You look _so_ pretty!”

Toph quirks a brow. “Suki. Confirm.”

Suki laughs behind her sleeve. “You do look very nice, Toph.”

Ty Lee frowns. “You don’t trust me?”

Toph smirks. “I can tell you’re being honest. I just wanted an opinion from someone who’s a little harder to impress.”

Katara blinks hard to keep from crying. “You all look amazing. I’m just so…”

“Cut the waterworks, Sugar Queen, unless you want tear stains on your wedding robes.”

Suki smirks. “Better than puke stains, though. Am I right?”

Katara laughs through her sniffles, ignoring the horrified looks from the tailor and his assistants. “True. Despite your best efforts, we all survived Phase Three.”

Toph waves a hand. “Speak for yourself. After this, I’m going back to bed.”

From the doorway, a voice can be heard over their laughter. “Lady Katara?” Machiko steps through the doorway and her eyes go wide. “My lady! You are a vision!”

Katara blushes at the praise. It was one thing to be complimented by her friends, but another thing entirely to hear it coming from her staff. Warmth blooms in her chest. “Thank you, Machiko. Did you need something?”

She bows her head. “I have a few details to review with you before your journey this afternoon.”

Katara nods. “That will be fine. Will you wait for me to change?”

“Of course, my lady.”

With a touch of regret she carefully changes out of her wedding robes and back into her blue travelling gear. Bidding goodbye to her friends, she finds Machiko waiting for her as promised outside the tailor’s workshop.

“General Iroh requested to meet with me in the pavilion this morning. I should probably head over there.”

Machiko bows. “Then please allow me to accompany you on your walk.”

Katara had not anticipated a chaperone; had she been alone she would have taken the long way to the pavilion, taking her time along the cobblestone path through the gardens and stopping to feed the turtleducks with the roll she had pocketed at breakfast. As it is, she allows Machiko to lead her through the palace halls while she ticks off items from a scroll she carries.

“Bai Ling says that the shipment of panda lilies has arrived in good condition. However, the blooms are smaller than anticipated, and may be overwhelmed by the fire lilies she had hoped to pair with them in the centerpieces. Does my lady wish for the panda lilies to stand alone?”

“I trust Bai Ling’s judgment. She knows what will look best.”

“She will no doubt be flattered by your praise and confidence in her abilities, my lady.” She pauses and considers her list. “We received word this morning via dragonhawk that the ambassador from the Yumen province has fallen ill and will not be able to attend the wedding. Not wanting to dishonor the invitation, he humbly asked that his son be allowed to attend in his place.”

Her first impulse is to acquiesce, but past experience gives her pause. “Is there any reason to be concerned?”

Machiko shakes her head. “The head of security has vetted his family; they have demonstrated their loyalty and support on numerous occasions. His son is poised to take his place once he retires.”

Katara nods. “Very well, then. Please send a hawk giving him our permission.”

“Very good, my lady. Next, the chef has expressed his concerns about the extra time that it will take to prepare for the festivities. His staff is hard at work, but he worries that even his skilled team may not be able to produce the quality work that this occasion demands given the timeframe and the additions to the menu.”

Katara groans inwardly. _Iroh_. “Please let him know that his staff will be compensated for any additional time they spend beyond their normal duties. Would it be helpful for him to have additional temporary staff?”

Machiko nods. “He has mentioned something to that effect; he may have some candidates in mind.”

They exit the palace proper, shielded from the bright morning sunlight by a covered walkway. “Have him contact those people and arrange a meeting with Toph. All new staff – temporary or not – have to go through her first.”

“Yes, my lady.” Machiko seems to hesitate. “Speaking of Lady Toph…”

Katara laughs. “Don’t let _her_ hear you call her that.”

Machiko pales. “It would be disrespectful for me to refer to her in any other way.”

“I know. What about Toph?”

Machiko guides her along the maze of covered walkways; she has never taken this route before and Katara is grateful to have an escort. “She has offered a team of metalbenders to help with security for the wedding and the reception afterward.”

Katara smiles. “That’s thoughtful of her.” She glances at Machiko. “You don’t agree?”

“It _is_ thoughtful, my lady. But it could also be seen as an insult. The implication is that the Fire Nation cannot protect its own.”

“I see your point.” Katara frowns. “However, this event will be one of the largest the palace has seen. Wouldn’t having the additional security be to our benefit?”

Machiko averts her eyes. “It is not my place to make such decisions.”

“Hmm. Perhaps they could be added officially as guests? Then they would be offering covert security from inside the event, and no one would be suspicious.”

Machiko blinks. “That might be an acceptable compromise.” She pauses while she contemplates it further. “Though we would need to add additional tables and seats at the reception. And the chef would need to be advised about the additional place settings. Bai Ling will need to stretch the panda lilies to compensate for the extra tables…”

Katara smiles. “See if you can arrange the details. But first check with Fire Lord Zuko. He should weigh in on this decision as well.”

“As you wish.” Machiko looks to the building that looms large before them, and slows her steps. “Here we are, my lady. I will communicate your wishes and will see you again tomorrow evening with any final arrangements.”

“Thank you, Machiko.”

The girl bows deeply at the waist before spinning on her heel and scurrying back the way they came, armed with Katara’s orders and ready to carry them out. Katara thinks back to when she first came here, how she had balked at the need for a staff of her own. Zuko had been right; she doesn’t know how she could live without them.

Gazing at the pavilion, she can feel some of her good humor wane. She has never seen it from this angle before; the lavish gardens and turtleduck pond had added a sense of softness to the place, but they are absent from view, and she realizes that they must be located in the back. In front of her is a stately mansion, the curled, red-tile roof supported by tall pillars. A brief set of stairs leads to a deep and wide lanai, and at its center is an impressive set of double doors. Her perception shifts; what she had imagined as a cozy – albeit luxurious - home now appears sterile and austere. She swallows.

So this is it. This is where Zuko grew up.

With the barest hint of hesitation in her steps, she climbs the stairs and approaches the door. She lifts the heavy knocker and lets it fall back against the metal plating, almost jumping at the commanding sound it makes. The seconds seem to crawl by as she waits, and she has the oddest urge to turn around and go back the way she came.

From the other side of the door she can hear footsteps. A petite staff member pulls open the door, and Katara wonders how she doesn’t struggle against its weight. She averts her eyes as she gestures her inside. “General Iroh is expecting you. Please wait here, my lady.”

She steps into a grand entryway, complete with high ceilings and polished marble columns. The center floor is sunken, featuring a table and cushions at its center. Light filters in from the eastern and western walls through tall archways. Opposite her, large urns twice her height frame a bold Fire Nation tapestry.

She doesn’t dare stray far from the door, she doesn’t even know if she would want to. Under any other circumstances she would be dying to snoop, but she feels like she has entered a museum. Or a tomb. Despite the warm, welcoming feel provided by the light, the air feels old and still. Even breathing feels like some kind of imposition on the sanctity of the place.

A moment later Iroh appears, shuffling in her direction, carrying a tray with a tea pot, snacks, and a small box. His smile seems to add life to the room and she lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Katara! Thank you for taking the time to visit. I know you have a long day ahead of you.” He gestures to the cushions at the center of the room. “Come, sit.”

The soles of her shoes tap against the hard floors as she makes her way to where Iroh is making himself comfortable. He pats the cushion at his side in invitation, and she settles in next to him. He busies himself with pouring the tea and hands her a cup. He samples a piece of fruit from a dish, popping it in his mouth and chewing carefully.

“Thank you for inviting me.” She glances around, almost surprised that her voice doesn’t echo. “The pavilion is beautiful. I’ve never been here before.”

“Zuko has not shown it to you?” A trace of concern lingers at his brow.

“No. I asked for a tour when I first moved here months ago, but I think he might have forgotten.”

“Ah.” Iroh sips his tea thoughtfully. “Sometimes, Zuko prefers to forget. I, on the other hand, prefer to remember.” He chuckles. “At my age, memories are all I have left!”

Katara smiles, but adds a hint of chastisement to her voice. “You aren’t fooling anyone. You’ll live to be as old as Bumi.”

“Perhaps. I have already been so lucky to live this long, and see the way the world has changed.” His eyes grow distant. “So much is different now than it once was. And so much of it is thanks to you and your friends.”

“And Zuko, too.”

“You are correct, though you had a hand in his transformation as well.” He smiles at the cup in his lap. “Together you shall continue to shape the world into something new. Something better.”

Her heart squeezes. “Uncle…”

His eyes are bright when he fixes them on her. “You shall lead a new generation of Fire Nation citizens, and model a new era of peace and kindness. Already I have seen the influence ripple across the nations. I hope that you are as proud as I am at all you have accomplished.”

She blinks watery eyes. “It really hasn’t been that much…”

“It has. And there is so much more to come.” He clears his throat. “Which is why I hope you will forgive an old man his sentimentality, and allow me to bestow something from the past onto your bright new future.” He reaches for the box on the tray. Mother-of-pearl accents are inlaid into ebony wood, and the box is smooth to the touch when he hands it to her. “Go on. Open it.”

She slides the top of the box away, and underneath are two delicate golden hair sticks with pearl tips, arranged on a cushion of crimson silk. Her breath catches as they glint in the light. “These are beautiful.”

“They were my wife’s.”

Her eyes snap to his, and she finds that his eyes are wet and his smile is soft. She shakes her head in disbelief. “Uncle Iroh, I couldn’t possibly…”

He lays a hand on her arm. “If I had had a daughter, or a granddaughter, these would have been hers. The spirits did not grant me either of those treasures by blood, but they have granted me that privilege in you. Please accept them, as a belated gift to welcome you into our family.”

She throws her arms around him, squeezing tight. “I’m honored. Thank you.”

“Thank _you_ , Katara. I wish you great happiness. May you have daughters of your own to pass those on to someday, should you wish.”

She pulls back and wipes at her eyes, managing a cheeky grin. “Still determined to fill up those extra rooms at your house in Ba Sing Se, aren’t you?”

He grins back. “Only the spirits know what lies before us, but that is a future I would gratefully embrace.”

“Me too.”

A soft knock at the door startles them both, and before anyone can answer the door cracks open on its own.

“Uncle? Katara?”

 _Zuko_. “We’re down here!”

The door swings open all the way and Zuko stands on the threshold, looking uncertain. He hesitates for the briefest of moments before striding forward, his boots tapping out a staccato beat on the marble floors. The edges of his robe ripple as he descends the few stairs to meet them. His eyes skate over an open cushion but he remains standing.

“Machiko said I might find you here. Your ride has arrived.”

A tingle of anxiety buzzes in her chest at his words. _Surely it couldn’t be time already?_ Next to her, Iroh finds his feet. He gathers the dish of fruit in his hands.

“If you will excuse me, I must be headed back to the kitchens. The pickled papaya still is not quite right.”

In unison, Zuko and Katara sigh and say, “I hate papaya.”

Iroh gives them a knowing smile as he glances between the two of them. “But the people of Omashu are quite fond of it! It would be an insult to their nobility if the recipe is not up to their standards.”

Zuko gives Katara a long look. “Is there anything about this wedding that’s actually for us?”

She stands and nudges him playfully. “You got to pick the bride. Isn’t that enough?”

He smirks. “Some spicy dumplings might be nice.”

Katara feigns insult and smacks his arm while Iroh perks up. “Would you like me to add those to the menu, nephew?”

Zuko rolls his eyes and smiles. “No, Uncle. We already have enough food to feed all of Ba Sing Se.”

He shuffles toward the door. “Let me know if you change your mind. Have a safe journey, Katara! I look forward to your return.”

She waves. “Thank you again, Uncle Iroh!”

He gives a little bow as he exits. “My pleasure.”

The door shuts behind him and they are left alone. Iroh seems to have taken all of the air with him; she finds that she feels out of place once again. Katara fidgets with the box in her hands.

“What’s in there?”

“Uncle gave me a pair of his wife’s hair sticks. I’m going to ask Fumiko if she can use them in my hair for the wedding. Do you think that will be okay?”

Zuko’s face softens. “More than okay. Uncle will love it. He’ll probably cry.”

Her eyes pop. “I don’t want to make him cry!”

“He’ll be crying anyway, I promise you. He’s already told me he’s tucking extra handkerchiefs into his sleeves.” He points to the box in her hands. “If you want, I’ll make sure those get back to your room.”

She smiles and hands him the box, which he tucks into his sash. They lapse into silence as she looks to the vaulted ceiling, while Zuko keeps his eyes trained on the floor. She knows she should be on her way, but she can’t convince her feet to move.

Zuko sobers. “We should probably get going. Are you ready?”

Is she? She had been so busy these past days – and weeks, and months – that her time had focused on the minutiae of life: details and planning, documents and dictation, schedules and socialites. Her old life seems almost like a dream, like something that happened to someone else, long ago. But it wasn’t. Her past was just as much a part of her as the present, and there were things to be reconciled, balance to be made. Despite all of her preparations during these past six months, the task ahead is one she feels woefully unprepared for.

And so she does what anyone might, given the circumstances. She stalls. “How about that tour, first?”

Zuko’s brow knits in confusion. “Right now?”

She worries her bottom lip between her teeth, giving him a hopeful glance. “Well, we’re here, after all. Seems like a good opportunity.”

The discomfort on his face is plain. “Uncle’s right. Don’t you think you should – “

“Soon.” She reaches for his hand, fiddles with his fingers. “Maybe just a quick tour?”

He looks torn, but she thinks he understands. She loves him a little more for it, even though she knows what she’s asking of him.

A long sigh escapes between his teeth. “Very well. Though there’s really not much to see.”

He starts to step away, but she pulls on his hand to stop him. It was unfair of her to trade her discomfort for his. “Hey. If this is too much, you don’t have to. Really, it’s okay.”

He surveys the room. “No, it’s fine. I just haven’t been here in a long time. As a kid it seemed so big, but now…” He shakes his head. “It’s just different, that’s all.”

She eyes him carefully. “If you’re sure…”

“Come on.”

With a gesture of his head he beckons her forward, leading her to the archway on the right. As they pass through she can’t help but run her fingers along the heavy velvet drapes that are tied back on either side. She expects dust motes to spring into the air at her touch, but the home is impeccably kept. She shouldn’t be surprised, the staff is meticulous, and it stands to reason that their talents would extend beyond the palace proper. It’s brighter here than in the entryway; the walls are lined with tall windows, and some of them are opened to let in a warm breeze. Here and there she can see Bai Ling’s touch; most flat surfaces boast a flower arrangement. The scent of the lilies and cherry blossom sprigs seems overly sweet as she passes.

They turn right and encounter another archway, and through it is a smaller, more intimate version of the palace dining hall. Along the back wall, two large mahogany cabinets stand on opposite sides of a long countertop, upon which rests a solitary bowl of fresh fruit. Rows of drawers with golden knobs line the underside of the countertop, and Katara wonders what’s in them. More flowers adorn the long table, a hint of life among the sterility.

“This was our dining room.”

She tries to picture the four of them sitting down for meals, or even the creation of the meals themselves. She tries to imagine dirty dishes on the counter, chopped vegetables and fruit peels, steaming plates of cooked meat. It’s so different than her own memories; gathered around a warm fire, her mother handing her bits of seaweed and chunks of seal meat to add to the stew, her mother’s proud smile as she exclaimed over her help in making the family meal. It’s hard to believe that this room was ever anything but the way it is now: sleek, clean surfaces, polished to perfection.

Caught in her own reveries, she starts, “Is this where your – “ she almost says _mom_ , she almost asks if his mother cooked here, and she instantly regrets it. She clears her throat and tries again. “Is this where your family ate together?”

Zuko runs a hand along the polished wood of the table, oblivious to her inner struggle. “We didn’t actually take many meals here. Most of the time we ate in the palace. The cupboards were for snacks and tea. That’s still true now, especially with Uncle staying here.”

As he says it, she notices what she hadn’t before: there’s no cooking implements, no places to prepare a meal even if they had wanted to. Again, she supposes she shouldn’t be surprised; the palace had staff to prepare meals, and members of the royal family likely had other ways to occupy their time. But for some reason her heart squeezes at the absence of the mundane, of the loss of simple memories. Her mind whispers that when she has children of her own, she will still find time to cook with them, to see the wonder on their faces when they taste something they created with their own hands.

“I see. You didn’t spend much time here, then?”

He pauses, shifting his eyes to the chairs that frame the table. “Sometimes, when it was raining outside, Azula and I would sit here and practice our letters. She had a hard time with certain characters, and when she was young enough she’d let me help her.”

There’s a bittersweet smile on his face, and she almost grabs him by the arm to haul him out of here, though she isn’t sure if it’s for his sake or her own. Before she can, however, he pivots and exits the dining room. They start down the hallway, but he stops at the archway, unwilling or unable to move forward.

“That’s where my parents stayed.” He gestures down the long hall, and the sheer curtains from the open windows flutter a little in the breeze. _Like ghosts_ , she thinks, but doesn’t say it. “Uncle stays in my mother’s room, I think.”

She knows where to draw the line, and says, “We don’t have to see those if you don’t want to.”

His features relax a little. “Thank you.”

She clears her throat, which had suddenly gotten tight. “Any more rooms you’d like to show me?”

There’s a pause, as though he wants to say no, but instead he gives her a tight smile. “Sure.”

His hand finds her waist, and he guides her back through the grand entryway with the sunken floor. They go through the opposite archway, and on this side rather than a dining room they find an elaborate sitting room. A few chairs and some cushions line three of the walls, and an elegant tasseled rug covers the marble flooring, softening their steps as they enter. Unlike the dining room, she can picture a family gathering here; the rug is worn in some places, and if she looks hard enough she can detect a few stubborn stains that even the dedicated staff were unable to remove. A floor-to-ceiling bookshelf runs the length of the fourth wall, complete with a small ladder to reach the topmost shelves, and books and scrolls are crammed into every available nook. It’s only a fraction of the size of the palace library – and it’s nothing in comparison to Wan Shi Tong’s – but she still can’t help but be impressed. This was quite the personal collection. She detaches from Zuko to take a closer look at the titles on display.

Zuko speaks as she browses. “Our tutors would come here once a day to educate us. They brought in a table for us to use, and after our bending lessons in the morning we would come here to learn. Neither Azula or I liked it very much. In the evenings though, mom would read to us in here – at least when Azula was still little and wanted to hear the stories. When she got too old for that she and my father would play strategy games on the rug. I was never very good at those, so mom and I would go to my room and read together in there instead.”

She can almost see it: a smaller version of Zuko, sitting at his mother’s feet, or perhaps in her lap, eyes bright and eager to listen to the comfort of her voice as she spins a tale for him. She and her brother were the same, though her father sometimes had his share of stories from the hunt or from the sea to share when they gathered around their fire in the evenings. She can even empathize with the fracturing, the way her brother would spend time with their father, determined to learn how to hunt and fish and navigate by the stars, while she spent her days with her mother, pricking her fingers with needles as she learned to sew through tough hide and experimenting with their precious few herbs to see what dishes could be made with the endless choices of fish. At the time she sometimes thought it unfair; she wanted to play with a spear and battle with the boys, but looking back she is grateful. She wouldn’t trade those hours spent with her mother for anything. She wonders if Zuko feels the same way.

Katara runs her fingers along the spines of the books. “I like this room.”

Zuko’s voice is soft. “Me too.” In her periphery, he shifts his weight. “There’s one more room, if you want to see it.”

She turns and there is a stiffness in his limbs, something wooden about the way he stands. “Only if you want to.”

He turns and waves for her to follow. She trails behind him down the same hallway, but in the opposite direction. Here too the windows are open and curtains brush against her arms as she passes. This time they bypass the archway and complete the journey to the end of the hall, where there are two doors, perpendicular to each other. He points to the door on the right. “That was Azula’s room.” He makes no move to go inside, and instead steps toward the door in front of him. “This one was mine.”

She holds her breath, not sure what to expect. When he opens the door, the room is disappointingly familiar. The arrangement of the bedroom is similar to her own: a stately canopy bed dominates the center, and furniture is scattered artfully around the periphery. Near the door stands a decorative statue of a golden dragon, big enough that a child could climb on it were it not for the sharp edges.

Katara has a million questions, but she keeps them to herself. She remembers long, arctic nights, snuggled between her brother and her mother – _warm fires, warm furs, and warm bodies_ – as she looks at the oversized, solitary bed. Big enough for a family, but only used by one. The grandiosity of it – of the whole palace really – was impressive, but large open spaces left empty distances. She thinks of Zuko as a child, engulfed in this bed all alone, and wonders what he thought of when he drifted off to sleep.

Zuko sweeps past the bed without giving it a second glance, and instead goes to the window. With a gesture he invites her to stand by him. Through the glass she can see a fountain and a manicured lawn dotted with trees.

He’s got that funny look in his eyes again, and she can tell that he is as caught up in memory as she is, crossing the line between what is and what was. “I used to sit on my bed sometimes and watch through the window as Azula played with her friends.” He snorts. “Well, she showed off for them, really.”

She can picture him, inside on a sunny day, and a profound sense of loneliness weighs on her heart. “You didn’t play with them?”

A corner of his mouth twitches upward. “Only if mom made me.”

Her heart stutters a bit at that word again – _mom_ – but she avoids it. “What about your friends? Did you play with them out there too?”

His face falls a fraction. “There weren’t any boys my age that were deemed appropriate for me to fraternize with. When I was really little, my cousin Lu Ten would play with me, but that was before he went off to war.”

She leans against him, as if to remind him that while he might have been alone then, it’s not true now. His hand comes up absentmindedly to rest on her shoulder, and he pulls her closer. With his free hand he points to an old, gnarled tree which stands taller than the rest.

“I fell out of that tree once. I broke my wrist. Father was furious – he’d told me over and over again not to climb it, but I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t practice my bending for over a month, and I think he barely looked at me during that time.”

There’s a few things she could say, things she wants to say as anger and disgust darken the edges of her heart – _he was a monster, you deserved better, all of that’s over now_ – but she settles for something more benign. “You liked climbing trees?”

“I liked climbing _that_ tree. I would sneak out at night just to see how high I could get.”

She tries to lighten the mood. “Practicing those Blue Spirit skills even then?”

He smiles, and she is grateful for it. “Yes and no. At the top I could see the lights from the city, like it was glowing.”

She can see him in her mind’s eye, crouched in the crooked branches, one leg dangling daringly as he settles with his back against the sturdy trunk. She can imagine the quiet of the sleeping city, and the warmth from the lights, like the embers of the volcano itself. She smiles. “It sounds peaceful.”

“It was.”

She stands there with him, looking out onto the garden, and a memory of her own surfaces, one she had not considered in years. It almost startles her to hear her own voice as she recounts it aloud. “I did something like that once. Not climbing a tree – the south pole doesn’t really have too many of those – but one night, after my mom died, I snuck out of the hut while everyone else was sleeping. I bundled up and sat on the ice, and watched the southern lights. They were so beautiful, and it was so quiet… when I looked at them, I imagined that she was in the spirit world, helping to create all the colors. Like she was waving to me.” She shakes herself out of the memory. “That sounds silly, doesn’t it?”

When she looks at him his expression is solemn, and he is searching her face. “Not at all.”

He reaches for her, and his thumb swipes gently underneath her right eye, smearing the moisture there. When had she started crying? Zuko leads her to the bed and invites her to sit down, keeping her close with an arm around her shoulders.

“It’s hard for you, isn’t it? Not just all the time, but now, especially. Getting married, without her.”

The tears come in earnest at his statement. It’s another thing she hadn’t allowed herself much time to consider, but it was the truth. Even long before she was engaged – long before she had even dated – she had considered that loss. It was one of the not so little things that would sneak up on her when she thought she had grieved enough, another piece of her future that was stolen from her that day.

She clutches the pendant at her throat; Zuko had been right not to try and replace it, and she loves him for that small courtesy. “It _is_ hard. But I know she’ll still be there with us, in spirit.” She looks to him with damp eyes. “Your mom, too.”

He looks away and squeezes her a little tighter, and she presses her face against his shoulder. She can hear him sniff, almost inaudibly. After a long silence, he says, “This is the last place I ever saw her.”

Her head comes up and she straightens. She knew she was asking a lot when she requested a tour of his childhood home, but she had no idea just what that would mean. She feels worse than a voyeur, she feels like an intruder. Sadistic, even. She tries to catch his eye but his gaze is fixed on the floor. “Zuko, I’m _so_ sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay.” He lets out a slow breath. “I haven’t been back here since we moved into the palace. But I can still picture her here.” Katara waits patiently, as she watches him swallow thickly. “She came to me the night she left. She looked scared, there was this urgency about her as she woke me up. She told me that everything she had done, she did to protect me. She told me that no matter how things might change, I must never forget who I am.” A sad smile appears on his face. “When I woke up the next morning I thought it had been a dream. But she was gone.”

She lays her head on his shoulder, squeezing his arm for comfort. “You must have been so scared. And you must have missed her terribly.”

She can feel him nod. “I’d say that you have no idea, but you do.”

“I wish things had gone differently. For both of us.”

He hums into her hair, running his fingers through it softly. “There are some things that I would keep.” She squeezes his arm again, in agreement, smiling to herself. “She would have liked you. I know she would have.”

“I wish I could have met her. I wish you could have met my mom, too.”

A soft snort disturbs her hair. “I doubt she would have liked me very much.”

She smacks his leg weakly. “Maybe not back then, but definitely the man you’ve become.” He eyes her skeptically, but her words are sincere. “She would have loved you, now.”

He gives her a soft smile. “That’s because you’ve helped me keep my promise to my mom. You help me remember who I am. And I’m my mother’s son, not my father’s.”

“And your Uncle’s.”

His smile widens. “Him, too.”

He stands and offers his hand, which she takes. They exit the room, and he closes the door gently behind him. As they make their way back out into the entryway, she leans into him. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

“Thank you for asking.”

She’s surprised by his answer, and that there’s no hint of sarcasm in his tone. “Really?”

He nods. “I think I needed this. I had been avoiding this place for so long. I thought that when I finally came in here, that…” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what I thought. But it feels better now, somehow. I can’t explain it.”

She gives him a genuine smile. “I’m glad.”

He squeezes her hand as they pass by the sunken floor, headed for the front door. “It’s funny, if things had turned out differently, Azula might be living here now. It’ll be a long time before anyone lives here again. Not until our kids have kids.”

Katara chuckles. “You know, that’s the second time today that someone’s mentioned kids to me. Is that supposed to be a hint?”

He groans good-naturedly. “You must mean Uncle. I’m sorry, you know how he can be.”

She laughs. “I don’t mind. It’s kind of surreal to think about, but I like the idea of making new memories here.”

He snorts. “Better ones, I hope.”

She thinks of the two of them, curled up with little ones of their own, reading stories in the sitting room. “I don’t know. Some of the ones you described don’t sound so bad.”

“I suppose you’re right.” He kisses her temple. “Now, have you stalled long enough? Or shall I show you the compound where my great-great-great uncle raised the first fleet of palace dragonhawks?”

She makes a show of thinking it over. “Actually, that sounds really interesting…”

He tries to add sternness to his voice and only half succeeds. “Katara.”

She sighs. “I know. It’s time. I should get going.”

Together they exit the pavilion, and as they step out into the sun she can almost feel it as the past and future merge – both his and hers, combining into something new, something different. A new chapter was beginning, one that was influenced by but not dictated by the complicated pasts that they hold. One that, with any luck, will be free from melancholy and regret. She’s so close to that threshold, so ready to let the sediment of memory settle so that new layers can cover over the old. But to achieve this, she has one more piece of the past that she must face. And now is the time.

****

The walk back from the pavilion takes less time than she had hoped, even with her dragging her feet, even with asking Zuko to take the long way around, through the gardens on the periphery rather than the shortcut through the palace. She even convinces Zuko to stop to feed the turtleducks with the roll she still carried with her from breakfast. The distraction doesn’t help; with every step her anxiety grows. She tells herself that she’s being ridiculous – she _asked_ for this, it was _her_ idea. And yet she’s dreading it nonetheless.

Before long the courtyard comes into view, and reality hits her like a ton of bricks. Or like a ten-ton flying bison, which is more apt, considering that’s the sight that greets her at the front entrance of the palace.

Aang is easy to spot, in his yellow and orange robes; he sticks out much like she must on days like today when she wears blue. A few curious staff members have crowded around him, and they are tentatively petting Appa while Aang laughs and guides their hands.

Zuko observes the spectacle. “Those staff members will have exciting stories to tell their families tonight at dinner.”

“About meeting the Avatar? Or Appa?”

“Either one, I suppose.” He leans in and speaks into her ear. “I’ll say my goodbyes here.”

“You’re not going to say hello?”

“Of course. But first…” He leans down and kisses her softly, pulling her in so that she can feel his warmth. If she could, she would disappear into his arms, remain here in the safety of his embrace all day. Instead, it’s over before she can truly enjoy it.

She pretends to pout. “That’s all I get?”

“I’ll see you again tomorrow night.”

“Doubtful. I’ll have last minute preparations and then I’ll be headed straight to bed. Or would you prefer I fall asleep during our wedding ceremony?”

He strokes her hair. “You could always stop by my room on your way to bed…”

“But then I’d never get to sleep. And then _you’d_ be nodding off during our vows as well.”

He catches a strand of her hair and lets it slowly sift through his fingers. “I’d be willing to take the risk.”

She pushes playfully at his chest. “I’ll be staying up in your room soon enough. You’ll just have to wait.”

He opens his mouth to retort but something over her shoulder snags his attention, causing him to step out of her embrace. A gust of wind ruffles her hair and suddenly their duo has become a trio.

“Zuko! Good to see you!” Without hesitation Aang leans in for a hug, and Zuko returns it. As he claps a hand on Zuko’s back, Katara envies the easiness of their embrace. It made sense; they’d had more opportunities to see one another, to med rifts.

Before she is ready Aang turns to her, all smiles and warmth. He’s taller now, his face leaner, and she can’t remember when that happened. Could a few seasons really do so much? How long had it been since she had really _looked_ at him? In her memories he is still a child, or child-like, but here he is on the cusp of manhood, all hard angles and flat planes. It seemed like she had blinked and missed it all.

He greets her enthusiastically, but he is careful with his touch, tentative in a way she wouldn’t have predicted, though Zuko’s watchful gaze may have something to do with it.

Releasing her from a brief hug he lays gentle hands on her shoulders. She has to look up now to meet his eyes, and the world seems to tilt as she does.

“You ready? The staff brought me your overnight bag. It’s already in Appa’s saddle.”

She tries to match his enthusiasm, but she can feel the tightness in her smile. “S-sure. We should get going, I suppose.”

“Be careful,” Zuko says as they approach Appa. Aang kneels and laces his fingers to give Katara a foothold, and he boosts her up onto Appa’s back. She catches Aang’s good-natured eyeroll as she adjusts herself in the saddle.

“Don’t worry, I’ll bring her back in one piece.”

“ _And_ on time.”

“You mean we shouldn’t stop to watch the otter-seal migration? I hear it’s going to be big this year.” At Zuko’s unamused look Aang smiles. “Come on, Zuko. You have nothing to worry about.”

Zuko crosses his arms. “You forget I’ve tracked you before, Avatar. I know you don’t always travel in a straight path.”

With a little puff of air Aang springs onto Appa’s head, gathering the reins. “You and I both know that sometimes the more roundabout paths are more rewarding.”

Zuko smirks. “Not today, they aren’t. Straight there, straight back. No dawdling.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

A fleeting memory flashes across her mind – _okay, guru goody-goody_ – and she almost laughs at the irony, but she chalks it up to nerves.

“If you aren’t back by tomorrow afternoon, I’ll come looking for you myself. And you know I always find you.”

She can hear the teasing in Aang’s voice. “Sounds like less of a threat and more of an adventure.” Zuko pinches the bridge of his nose, and Aang laughs. “Alright, no detours.”

“If it isn’t Twinkletoes!”

Katara’s head swivels around to see Suki and Toph exiting the palace. Aang waves. “Hey guys! You up for a trip to the South Pole? You could join us if you want.”

Toph makes a face. “No thanks. That ice is almost as bad as sand.” She clutches her stomach. “Plus, I don’t think I’m up for the flight today.”

Suki chimes in. “We’re on our way to lunch. Couldn’t really eat much at breakfast.”

Katara knows just how they feel. “Ask Iroh for some coffee.” At their confused expressions she adds, “Trust me, it’ll help.”

Toph waves a dismissive hand. “Whatever you say, Sugar Queen. And take good care of my date! Don’t let him get distracted; I don’t want to be sitting with Suki and Chief Snoozles all by myself!”

Katara blinks. “R-right. Not to worry. Zuko’s already given him the lecture.”

“No surprises there. See you all when you get back!”

Aang laughs. “You’re blind, Toph.”

“Thought I had you that time.”

Aang looks over his shoulder. “You ready?”

She grabs onto the edge of the saddle, more for comfort than for safety. “Let’s go.”

“Yip yip!”

As they spiral away from the palace, she watches the courtyard until she can no longer pick out Zuko among the sea of people in red.

The island quickly disappears from view, just a spot on the horizon as they level out over the sparkling sea. It’s hard not to remember all of the times she had been sitting in just this spot, watching the world fly by beneath her, wondering what the future would bring. It’s odd, just how different and familiar it could be all at once, and the person at the reins shifts in her mind’s eye.

Pulling herself out of memory, she calls out over the wind. “Thank you for doing this, Aang. Dad and Gran-Gran have always wanted a ride on Appa.”

“My pleasure,” he calls back. “I would have been happy to get them myself, though. I’m sure you have a lot of things to do. Not that I don’t appreciate the company!”

“I’ve done all the preparation I can at this point. Besides, it will give me a little time to spend with my family.” _And you_ , she thinks, but doesn’t say it. That was the _real_ reason she had written him and asked him to fetch her family, so that they could have this moment together. Now that she’s here, though, she finds she doesn’t know what to say, or how to start.

“I understand,” he says, and she thinks that he does and he doesn’t. She wishes she could see his face, but his gaze is fixed on the horizon as silence falls between them.

This feels like a mistake. Why did she think this would be a good idea? The tension makes her anxious, but also sad. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Riding on Appa’s back all those years ago, she would never have predicted that the boy she cradled in her arms upon first meeting would be so far away now. She searches for something, _anything_ to interrupt the silence, clinging to the first thing that comes to mind.

“So… You and Toph, huh? She said she was bringing a date, but I never would have guessed.”

She can see his shoulders tense, as if embarrassed. “It’s just for the party. Really!” He shifts slightly so that she can see his sheepish grin. “We thought since neither of us had a date, we’d just go together.”

He looks so young, suddenly, and she relishes it. In a teasing voice, she says, “You sure? Just that?”

He laughs. “We’re friends!”

She rubs her chin, making a dramatic show of considering it. “I mean, I’d never really thought about it, but maybe…”

Color rises in his cheeks, but it could just be from the biting wind. He shakes his head. “No way. This is _Toph_ we’re talking about!”

Katara shrugs with a smile. She missed this; the banter and the playfulness. It feels so natural, she can’t help but push just a little farther. “I mean, you _are_ natural opposites. That can really work. Just look at me and Zuko.”

It’s out of her mouth before she even thinks about it, and she can see Aang’s smile falter just a little, just enough. He averts his eyes. “Right.”

And there it is.

She sighs. In trying to avoid this conversation, she had bumbled right into it. It’s as though it were an inevitability; eventually, no matter what path they took, it would always lead right here. It’s not a conversation she wants to have, but it’s necessary. Not because it would change her heart but because it would make it whole again – there has been a void in her these past three years, a warm and vibrant place in her heart where her friendship with Aang used to be. She’s desperate, on the eve of her new future, to fill that space once again.

Trying not to wince, she says, “Want to talk about it?”

He won’t look at her. “Talk about what?”

“Me and Zuko. Getting married.”

He shrugs, fakes a smile. “What’s there to talk about?” From his expression she thinks that if he could run away right now he would. She’s grateful that she doesn’t see his glider in the saddle.

She takes a deep breath. Better to just say it. “You don’t like it.”

He frowns and turns to face her fully. “Hey, I totally support you guys! I’m _in_ the wedding!”

He’s right, of course. He’s been nothing but gracious – overly gracious, in some instances. His was among the first responses they had received after sending out the wedding invitations, and he had offered to help at every turn. He even volunteered to speak during the ceremony, blessing their union. Even still. Her expression softens. “But you don’t like it.”

“I do.” He tilts his head, looks slightly ashamed. “I didn’t, but I do.”

“Oh?”

Rather than avoiding this, he surprises her by leaving his post at Appa’s reins and coming to sit in the saddle with her. Perhaps he had grown up more than she had given him credit for, or perhaps Toph’s lessons about facing things head on had finally taken root. Either way, he settles across from her, tucking his legs to one side. “I’ve thought about it. A lot. I won’t lie to you, I was really hurt at first.”

She looks down at her hands. “I know.”

“When I found out you were dating, I was shocked. I mean, you and _Zuko?_ How would _that_ ever work? Why would you even _like_ him?” He laughs weakly. Her eyebrow twitches, but she reminds herself that he is speaking of then, not of now. “I kept going over it in my head. And then I realized – I really should have seen it coming a long time ago.”

She quirks a brow. “What, like after we…” Her eyes skip away. “After we broke up?”

“I mean during the war.”

Her eyes snap back to his. She shakes her head, brow furrowed. “Aang, I didn’t – _we_ didn’t – there was nothing between us then! Really!”

He just smiles, a little sadly, and nods. “I know. But it was there. When I look back, I can see it. Little things. And big things too.”

She frowns. “Like?”

He sighs, and leans back on his hands. “Like the way he wanted to earn your trust so badly, and the way you fought him for every inch. He didn’t try that hard with Sokka.”

She gives him a flat look. “He broke into a _prison_ with Sokka.” She can feel the urge to defend her future husband overpower her desire to hear him out. “He danced with dragons with you! He carried Toph around long after her feet were healed!”

“I know. But the reasons were different. After he joined us, things just changed. You were angry, and confused, and I thought that it was his fault.” He looks down. “I would never say this to him, but for a while part of me was angry at him for it, for making you that way, for tarnishing my vision of you.”

She crosses her arms; she had long since grown weary of the pedestal he wanted to keep her on, and the impossibility of keeping to those standards when they were together. “Maybe my image needed a little tarnishing.”

He sighs. “I know that now. It wasn’t really you that had changed, it was my perception, but I wasn’t ready to see that.” He pauses, looks at the passing clouds. “I didn’t really understand it then, but I remember that a part of me felt sad when I watched the two of you hug on that dock.”

“He had earned my trust. My forgiveness. I could finally relax and let go around him.”

There is an odd serenity to his expression, reminding her of the fact that he was raised by monks. “Let go… I think that’s what it was. I think a part of me could see it, that the Katara I loved had come back, but she hadn’t come back to _me_.”

“Aang…”

He shrugs. “It’s true. I really should have known when I heard what had happened during the comet, that my chances were over for sure. We hadn’t even _talked_ after the play, and then I disappeared, and then he risked his life to save you. Even if I didn’t know where you stood, his feelings must have been pretty clear.”

She tries to muster some indignation, but she can’t quite meet his eye. “He would have done that for any of us.”

“Again, the reasons were different.” She has nothing to say to that, so she’s grateful that he continues. “But then you offered to come with me after Zuko was better. Even if I had seen all of this then, even if I had had doubts, it was like the universe was sending me a sign. I mean, after all that, you still chose me.”

She thinks back to that time, of the choices that presented themselves to her, of the turmoil that accompanied peace. “Well, it wasn’t easy, but I did.”

Aang frowns, blinking away the detached expression. “It wasn’t easy?”

“Well, I was still confused. And that night was traumatic. Not to mention that Zuko had this complicated relationship with Mai…”

He recoils, looking slightly disgusted. “Are you saying that if he had been single things might have gone differently?”

“No!” She adjusts the volume of her voice. She hadn’t meant to shout. “I don’t think so. I loved you first, I thought I should honor that.”

Aang looks hurt. “So I was right. You did love him, even then.”

She shakes her head. “I didn’t think of it that way. There was just this shift… I can’t explain it.” She thinks of that subtle change in the light, the way her vision had suddenly changed, opening up her perception to things that were hitherto hidden. But how could she tell him these things? Now or ever?

Aang nods to himself. “I thought so.”

She sighs. This wasn’t going quite the way she wanted. “I’m sorry, Aang. Maybe it was an unfair choice. Maybe I did love him then, but I couldn’t name it. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t love you too. I did. Truly.”

“I know.” After a beat, he smiles. “We had some good times though, didn’t we?”

She smiles back. “Like that time Momo got caught in a sheet and the governor’s wife chased him down the street with a broom, thinking he was an evil spirit?”

He laughs this time, and she can feel the warmth in it. “Or that time we went back to visit the swamp and they taught us how to swamp ski?”

She’s overcome with giggles at that one. “That cat-gator kept trying to bite you! It nearly tore your pants off!”

“I know! I’ve always had a way with animals, but that one just didn’t like me.” As his laughter fades his smile remains, and he gazes over her shoulder. “Or that time at the Earth King’s coronation. We danced all night.” He gives her a soft smile. “You were the most beautiful woman in the room. People couldn’t keep their eyes off you.”

She smiles at the memory, but her recollection is a bit different; of all the eyes on her that night there was one pair in particular that kept straying her way, and it wasn’t Aang’s. She shakes it off, focusing on the man in front of her. Tentatively she reaches out and covers his hand. “You know you’ll always be special to me, right? I’ve really missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too. I’m sorry I stayed away so long. It was just really hard to see you two together.”

She nods and squeezes his hand before taking it back. “Zuko knew it would be.”

“What? When?”

“From the very beginning. At my seventeenth birthday party.”

His eyes sparkle, and she can see the youth in them. “Oh yeah! There was some epic penguin sledding that time.” His face clouds in confusion. “But Zuko wasn’t there.”

“No, he wasn’t. He came early and then left before you arrived, because he knew you’d be upset and he didn’t want to hurt you.”

Aang is quiet for a long moment. When he speaks his voice is soft but even. “He’s a good man.”

“Yes, he is.”

His eyes lift to hers, searching. “And he makes you happy? Really, truly happy?”

“Yeah, he does.”

He sighs, and she can almost see the weight lifting from him as he exhales. “Then that makes me happy too.”

“You mean it?”

He nods. “Years ago, I couldn’t see it that way. I was wrapped up in my own happiness, which I thought had to include you. I didn’t see that you were unhappy, or that maybe I wasn’t right for you. And I’m sorry for that.”

Her heart cinches. “Aang, there’s no reason to be sorry.”

“There is.” He takes her hand, caressing her fingers gently. “Forgive me, Katara. I didn’t consider your needs like I should have. I just want you to be happy now. And if you say you’re happy with Zuko, then I’m happy for him too. He’s marrying an amazing woman.”

She blinks tears from her eyes, and manages a smirk. “Be sure to remind _him_ of that.”

He matches her expression. “If he ever forgets, he’ll have to face the wrath of the Avatar.”

She laughs. “You’ll have to get in line behind Sokka if that ever happens. He was the biggest holdout! It took forever to get his blessing.”

Aang tilts his head and smiles softly. “He just loves you, Katara. We all do.”

“I know. And I love you all too.”

As if on cue, they both lean in to embrace, and it feels natural this time, not forced or hesitant or obligatory. He speaks into her ear. “I mean it, Katara. Be happy. But not for us. Not even for Zuko. For you. Okay?”

She nods against his shoulder, holding him a little tighter. “Okay. I will.”

He leans back, holding her by the shoulders. “Promise?”

She smiles. “I promise.”

Carefully he leans in, and gently presses his lips to her forehead. “Good.” He pulls back and releases her, and she can see the shine in his eyes. “I guess I’d better get back to steering Appa. If we get lost, Zuko will come chasing after us.”

She laughs. “Just like the good old days.”

He laughs with her. “Except this time he’d be chasing _you_.”

Hours pass as the air around them cools, but the space between them remains warm. There is no longer silence between them; they share stories of all of the things they had missed in the preceding years, outdoing each other with tales of challenges or funny anecdotes. By the time they land in the South Pole her sides ache from the laughter.

As her grandmother, grandfather, father, and brother climb aboard Appa the next morning, she catches Aang’s eye. The look he gives her is lacking the remorse, or the longing, or the hurt, but it is full of love.

Gran-Gran whoops as they lift into the sky, and her brother keeps her from falling out of the saddle as she looks over the edge with wonder. She laughs as she remembers their first flight on Appa, and Sokka’s similar reactions. Once again, she was leaving the South Pole on a journey that would end in the Fire Nation, but this time it would be a very different ending indeed. Instead of fire there would be fireworks, and instead of dread there would be celebration. Tomorrow is her wedding day, and the thought that she would be able to share this moment with her family and friends – _all_ of them – makes her heart feel as though it will overflow.

She thinks back to the seating chart debacle and smiles. She shouldn’t have worried about what to do about Aang. She knew all along.

* * *

 

_The moment she knew it was truly meant to be, she was on the back of a flying bison, soaring over the shimmering blue waters of the southern sea, heading home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s not over yet, folks! Be sure to meet me in the epilogue – there’s a wedding to attend!


End file.
